Challenging hope
by little princess
Summary: AU, historical setting. Lord Heero, looking for a challenge, aquires the wild and dangerous slave named Shinigami just as Prince Quatre is about to set his personal servant free. 1x2, suggestions of 4x3. BDSM-inspired scenes
1. Prologue: Heeroes or fools

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing (but I had fun using its characters for my story)

Warnings: Language, abuse, rape, slavery

Thanks to my beta readers: , SFA and Cylina Nightshade

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Prologue: Heroes or fools

As if on autopilot, Heero Yuy's left hand moved the paper to the pile on the left while at the same time his other hand moved to the right. His right hand, however, was not met with the familiar texture of paper, but with the cold, hard feel of wood and surprised at that, Heero frowned, glancing at his hand on the desk. Already done? What time was it? He rubbed his eyes and straightened his back. That had gone faster than he had anticipated. He looked at the stacks of paper on his desk, two larger ones with denied requests and requests he still had to consider and a smaller one with approved requests. This weekly part of the job usually took him into the early hours. The midnight chime had not even sounded yet.

As Landkeeper for his king, it was mainly up to him to see to the farmers that worked for the king, or rather, it was up to him to govern the nobles who looked after the farmers. His father did the same, but with the nobles running the cities.

He frowned at the pile with requests he would have to consider and wondered if he should do some now, when the doorbell was rung, indicating someone was here to see either his father or himself. That made his decision easy. He had a feeling tonight's visitor would be here for the latter. He neatly put away the papers and then retreated to his sitting room where a closed bottle of fine wine and a clean glass were waiting for him as expected. And sure enough, just as he had poured himself a glass and made himself comfortable in the chair by the fire, the familiar sound of the butler's approaching footsteps reached his ears. A rap on the door was his queue to answer "Enter."

The large, wooden door opened and the slender, middle-aged butler Geoffrey stepped forward with a bow, his black hair remaining neatly in place despite the movement of his head. "His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Quatre Raberba Winner is here to see you, My Lord," Geoffrey said in his slow, monotonous voice. Unexpectedly, Prince Quatre strode inside without waiting for an answer from Heero, his sky blue eyes immediately finding Heero's darker ones through his blond bangs. Of course, as crown prince he was allowed to enter as he pleased, but usually he showed more respect for other people's privacy.

Heero stood up, hiding his frown and bowed to the prince. "Your highness," he greeted.

"Lord Yuy." Quatre barely inclined his head, another sign that he was aggravated, which at times Heero had thought was nearly impossible for the usually kind-hearted young man.

Heero straightened and looked up at the tall butler. "Bring another glass for our guest please, Geoffrey."

"That won't be necessary. I shall not be staying long," Quatre interjected rather shortly. "Leave us please."

Heero nodded at the servant and the man bowed curtly and moved out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure at this hour?" Heero asked, taking his glass from the table. He had a pretty good idea of why Prince Quatre was here, although he was mildly surprised it was Quatre himself who had come.

"I'm here because of Shinigami," the sovereign answered. "I hear you are the one who bought him."

"You heard quickly," Heero answered calmly and sipped his wine.

"It is my business to keep track of murder suspects in my land," Quatre answered simply. "Don't tell me you haven't heard the rumours that surround him."

"I have," Heero admitted. This was exactly why he'd expected a visit from the Royal Court.

"Then why on earth did you buy him?" Quatre asked, not without a hint of disbelief. "Heero, you know those rumours are most likely true. What would you possibly want with a slave such as Shinigami?"

Heero savoured the taste of his sweet wine for a moment before he answered. "The challenge."

"The challenge?" Quatre shook his head. "You bought him because you wanted a challenge? Are you so bored with your life that you will risk it for a 'challenge' like this?"

"Basically," the Lord answered vaguely. Quatre had never understood his need for a thrill in his life.

"If it is challenges you want, you should have come to me. I would have given you challenges that are much safer. The courts need to be reorganised. The temples need to be kept in reign. The west is growing increasingly dissatisfied with the food supplies they get. Any of these challenges could have been yours."

"That's not what I mean." Heero set down his glass. "My father is refusing me the hunt more and more often. Politics are making me feel dull. I need the physical aspect of a challenge."

"Then join the sword fighting tournament," Quatre answered exasperated.

"That is not the same," Heero retorted. "It's not real. There are always the same tricks. It's predictable and short lived."

"So you decide to up the stakes instead, is that it? You don't even care that his previous owners all met their deaths under questionable circumstances?"

"If my father will not allow me to go to the wild beasts, I have to bring the wild beast to me instead."

"A slave is not an animal," Quatre said disapprovingly, narrowing his eyes.

"Speaking of slaves," Heero decided to change the subject, "don't you have a private party to attend to?" He knew he was one of the few who could speak to the crown prince like that and get away with it. They had grown up together, perhaps not like brothers, but at the very least they were like cousins. Heero considered Quatre a friend and that was not a status anyone gained quickly with him.

"I am not going to convince you to abandon this ridiculous plan of yours, am I?"

Quatre knew him well enough to get realise that by now. "No."

"Fine." The blond haired man gave him a warning look. "But I will be keeping an eye on this."

"As you wish." Heero acquiesced, blue eyes following Quatre as he turned to leave.

"And Heero?" The future king of Elfor turned to regard his friend once more. "Don't get yourself killed."

"I won't." With that, the blond opened the door and headed out into the hallway, greeted by the butler Geoffrey, who had been waiting for him to come out.

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princess/rlyblue

This story has 20 chapters, more than 100k words and is as good as finished. I know this is a dying fandom, but this story took a lot of effort and I wanted to share it with you despite that.

Also note: title may change.


	2. 01: Building blocks

Warning: This chapter contains torture and mention of rape.

Again thanks to my beta readers , SFA and Cylina Nightshade

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01: Building blocks

"You look troubled, master." As usual the tall, slender manservant only showed one emerald green eye, his other one obscured by the long, sandy bangs of hair that for some reason refused to go anywhere but straight to the front. He watched the smaller heir to the Winner throne with a hint of curiosity.

"I just went to see Heero," Prince Quatre answered with a sigh, flinging himself down into his chair. Almost immediately Trowa moved up behind him and his hands started working on the knots in his master's shoulders.

"Is he up to his usual games again?" Trowa had been at the receiving end of many of the prince's complaints and quite a few of those concerned the private life of Lord Heero Yuy, who somehow never seemed satisfied with what he had and was always looking for ways to make his life more 'interesting.' Honestly, it was no wonder that his father forbade him the hunt if he kept riding off, making it a game to lose his entourage so he could go hunting the more dangerous animals all on his own.

"Have you heard of the Shinigami?"

Trowa's hands stilled for a moment, betraying more than he liked to let on. He tried covering it by moving a hand along a muscle down his master's back. "He hasn't..."

"He has," Quatre acknowledged. "I swear that man is trying to get himself killed one way or another." The frustration in his master's voice was emphasised by his muscles tensioning momentarily.

"Are you going to prevent it?"

Quatre shook his head. "I can't," he said resigned. "Shinigami operates well from the shadows. None of the murder scenes contain any evidence that he was the culprit and all of the murdered men had their own share of enemies."

"Like Lord Yuy." Trowa pointed out.

"Yes." Quatre sighed. "Like Heero Yuy."

At that moment a chime was heard throughout the palace, indicating midnight. Trowa felt his master's muscles tense up a little again as the blond prince suddenly got up from his chair. "It's time," he said, his voice suddenly as light as his eyes and Trowa pulled back his hands, eyeing him curiously.

"Master?"

He watched as his owner skipped over to a chest beside the bed, unlocked it and took out a few things. He turned back to Trowa, holding out his hand. A piece of paper, closed off with the royal seal of the Winner House was presented. "Take it," Quatre urged.

Hesitantly, Trowa stepped closer to obey. His long fingers brushed those of his master as he took the piece of paper. Was this... Suddenly he found his body trembling slightly. He turned away from him then, unsure if he wanted him to see the look on his face. Then he broke the seal and opened the letter.

It was what he had thought –hoped– it would be when he'd seen the paper. It stated his identity as Trowa, a free citizen of Elfor. A piece of paper he had not noticed before fell to the floor and he bent down to pick it up. It was a note, stating that Quatre – it listed all his titles, which took up nearly half the note – hereby released Trowa from his duties to serve on his twenty-first name day. There were three signatures on the piece of paper, one he recognised as belonging to Quatre.

He could not believe it. Sure, the prince had mentioned this before. He mentioned that he wished for Trowa to be free and that he would see to it the day he turned twenty-one, but it had been months since he'd last suggested the idea of his freedom and frankly Trowa feared the man had second thoughts about it.

He turned around slowly, staring at the two pieces of paper in his hands. "Master..."

"Shush, no more of that now," Quatre said genlty, lifting Trowa's face with his hands to meet his eyes. "I am no longer your master. You may come and go as you please."

"I... I don't..." Trowa was at a loss for words, but found himself drowning in those sky blue eyes that had accepted him for who he was long ago.

"You thought I would forget?" Quatre always knew how to read him. "I wanted this to be a surprise. That's why I stopped mentioning it." But Trowa could read his master – former master, he supposed – almost as well and he saw the doubt in the other man's eyes.

"Thank you," he said quietly and he meant it with every fibre of his being. "For everything."

This man had been so much more than just another owner to him. The prince had stumbled upon him as a teenager with no name and decided to take him in, because he'd wanted a friend his own age who would be allowed inside the palace. He showed him love where before he had only been ignored. He taught him patience and kindness and how that was a reward in itself.

"It was given with love," was the sovereign's reply. "And so is this." Quatre pulled two more items from behind his back. "Five hundred silver marks to allow you to start over any way you wish." He handed the bag to Trowa. Five hundred silver marks? A man could live off that his entire life! At least, he could if he did not care for luxury.

"And this." Trowa looked at the book he was offered. _The Building Blocks of_ _Magic_ was what the title read. Green eyes widened and the hand that was about to take it stopped dead in its tracks.

"Magic?" He asked quietly. "But that is..."

"Forbidden by my father," Quatre finished. "I know. But using objects that were once created by magic is not forbidden and neither is reading about it." The crown prince took a step towards his former possession and lightly touched the arm of the taller man. "I know what you did for me that day," he said quietly, as if afraid someone else might here. They were all alone in the large chamber, though. "I dared not speak of it, fearing I might put you in danger, but magic is part of your people. That is not something that can be denied. Ignore it if you wish. I beg you never to use it again. But if you do wish to know it, it is best to learn the truth rather than questionable rumours." His hand moved down Trowa's arm towards his hand and he put the book in it. "Please, take it."

Trowa's hand automatically closed around the book, still registering the question as an order, but even after he realised that he did not bother letting it drop. Instead he held it close as he leaned in to plant gentle lips on those of the crown prince.

Quatre leaned in for a moment, then pulled back. "You don't have to please me like that anymore either." As much as the prince tried to hide it, Trowa caught the hint of sadness.

"I do this because I want to," he said, and leaned in again, hesitantly. This time though, he was met by arms wrapping gently around his neck, pulling him in closer.

* * *

"And it is my fault that you gave him the opportunity to attack you?" Heero glared at the taller of the two men who had just brought in his new possession. They had said they would bring the boy at noon and it was well after. Apparently they had trouble getting him into the collar and clothing Heero had provided. But finally they'd managed to get Shinigami to the house and well secured in Heero's bedroom.

"He is your possession now, My Lord. That makes what he does your responsibility." The words were already losing their strength under his glare.

"It is your job to deliver him. If you fail to stay out of harm's way, then you should have done your job better." Heero narrowed his eyes as he made the words sound final. His family was the most powerful in these lands aside from the Royal Winner House and he was trained to speak with authority. He knew he was right and did not want to deal with the paperwork involved if they tried to make him pay for the damage his new toy had done to them. As usual it seemed to work, for the two men bowed and backed away from him. Geoffrey was, of course, right on time to show them out.

Dismissing the two men from his mind, Heero made his way to his chambers where the slave should be secured. He debated for a moment whether to make the wild one wait for him, but decided there would be enough boredom in store for Shinigami in the near future. He wanted to see him first. He put a hand in his pocket to make sure the magical crystal controlling the chains that held the Shinigami was there before he entered his bed chamber.

Heero's chambers were located on the second floor of the building. He had a simple bedroom with just the furniture he needed – a king-sized, four poster bed, a comfortable chair nearby, a table that held only a few items, a wardrobe for his clothes and a dresser for various personal items such as underwear and jewellery that went with formal clothing. His bed faced two decently-sized windows with dark shutters that could be opened to various positions. Aside from a few sconces the only thing that decorated the wall was a large tapestry showing a green and red dragon fighting a knight on a white stallion.

To one side a bathroom was joined. It had a little more luxury than the bedchamber with state of the art technology that could pump water up to the second floor and directly into the bath, though servants had to heat the water from half a floor below. To the other side of the bedchamber was a door that led to a sitting area and an adjoined study, which Heero hardly ever used as he preferred the one on the ground floor. Those rooms could also be accessed through a door in the hallway and, of course, through the servant's passageways that were hidden on the inside, allowing the servants to go about their duties unseen.

The men who'd just left had added another addition to the bedroom, however. There he was, a thin, wild thing, collared with a black, metal collar that held him captive, chained to the wall. The collar was hardly visible through the enormously long mass of brown hair that seemed to cover almost his entire body, although not at all in an orderly fashion. Beneath that mass he caught glimpses of the sturdy black piece of clothing Heero had ordered the men to dress him in. For a moment Heero just stared at his newest possession.

The mass of hair moved and some of it fell to the side to reveal two shockingly intense, nearly violet eyes. What a remarkable colour. The intensity of the glare of the boy – for he looked much younger than Heero had expected – surprised Heero, but he hid it. Oh yes, this one was going to challenge him all right. It was written all over that pale face. He did _not_ want to be here and he was _not_ going to cooperate. Except, of course, that sooner or later he _would_. Heero would take it one step at a time, manipulating the boy into wanting to obey. He would break this so-called untameable beast. And he would live to show the world that he had done so. He could hardly wait for the day that he would have this boy parading in front of the other nobles, waiting on him hand and foot, obeying his every command. It would take time, perhaps a year or more, but he would succeed.

Heero walked closer to his new challenge, who apprehensively backed up. His wrists were shackled as well, chained and fastened to the collar. It looked uncomfortable. The shackle's chains were connected to the wall like the collar was, magically disappearing into the stone. He was about to do something about the awkward position when the door behind him opened. He turned to see his father enter.

"So, it is true," the elder man stated, looking the chained boy over. "You went and bought the Shinigami."

Heero said nothing. He heard the disapproval in his father's voice, but he was used to that. And he was an adult now. His father did not have the authority to return Heero's purchases any longer and they both knew it.

"And it appears to be just a boy." The father concluded, barely feigning interest. "See to it that it does not cause trouble. I do not wish to see it near my wing. Understood?"

"Understood, Father." He wished his father had not spoken like that in front of the boy, but he also knew the answer he gave was the quickest way to get rid of the older man. And sure enough his father retreated.

Heero turned his attention back to the slave that was still glaring straight at him. He would have to do something about the direction the boy was aiming his eyes, following him like a predator about to strike. Or perhaps he looked more like some cornered prey, which wasn't much better, as even prey would strike out when there was no other option left.

He fingered the crystal in his pocket, running his thumb over it deliberately. Immediately, the shackles on the wrists disconnected from the collar. It was as if it read Heero's thoughts upon a touch. The slave was clearly surprised, his eyes moving to his freed hands, but that didn't last long. Another stroke of a finger over the hidden crystal and the chains on his wrists contracted back to the wall, pulling the shackles and thus the boy hard against it. Shinigami gasped at the sudden forced motion, but Heero noticed he refused to show any hint of pain. Good. A real Shinigami should not be whimpering like some weak child. He had little patience for weaklings.

The boy struggled against his bonds as Heero loomed closer. Who was the predator now, little one? He stopped in front of the boy and looked straight into those slightly panicked eyes, knowing his own gaze was hard as stone. He said nothing at first, wanting to see the boy's reaction in the way his eyes changed. Fear and hatred. That was what he saw. The boy seemed to hold both at the same time and with an intensity Heero thought his father could learn from.

When he was satisfied with what he had seen, he put a hand to the boy's chest and spoke. "You are mine now. Remember that." He felt the boy's muscles tense a moment before a leg moved and he jumped away just in time to avoid being kicked in the groin. He growled at the boy's retaliation and pushed forward, one hand tangling in the slave's hair close to his scalp, the other arm moving towards the boy's throat, putting pressure on it above the collar. "Your Shinigami acts will not be tolerated in my household. Understood, slave?"

The boy managed to glare even though he was struggling for breath, but Heero did not release him until he gave something that resembled a nod. "Good." He relaxed his grip on his hair as well as the pressure on the his throat, causing the slave to draw in a deep breath of air. "If you attack me ever again I will make you regret it dearly." Then he stepped away from the slave and turned his back, heading towards the door. Before he left his bed chamber, he remembered to stroke the crystal once more, allowing the obviously exhausted slave a couple of inches to move so he could slump down. Silently berating himself for having lost his temper so easily, he left the room.

* * *

A few hours later Heero made his way back up the stairs towards his private chambers. The light that came through the windows was already dimming, showing evening was definitely well on its way. But the servants had lit the candles and lamps in the hallways early so that Heero could walk in comfort. Soon someone would be around to close the window shutters to keep the cold night air out.

It was time to deal with the Shinigami some more. Time to feed him. This morning Heero had forbidden his servants to come into his private chambers upstairs and though he had not bothered to explain why, he was certain there would be rumours. Some of the servants must have noticed the wild-haired boy being dragged in and up to his rooms. Still, Heero had decided he would be handling the boy himself until he had at least a little control over him. He figured it would be difficult enough to get the boy to obey one person. Better not add the servants to the mix until the slave understood how things worked around here.

He was carrying two plates up to his room. One of them held some grey, tasteless drab that was everything a body needed from a meal but wasn't very inviting. The other carried the same kind of dinner his servants got to eat tonight, which meant potatoes, vegetable and a small piece of fish. It even had some gravy. That was what he was going to use to convince the boy to cooperate.

He didn't expect it to work immediately. From what he had read about this Shinigami, he'd not really cooperated at any time with his previous two owners either. It might even take as long as a month before the slave would take the 'bargain' Heero was about to offer, but he knew he could not back down first. It was the slave that needed to learn its place. Heero just wondered if he could bend him enough without breaking him. The Shinigami would be worth so much more if he could keep some of that spirit in tact. Toned down, of course.

Entering his chamber, Heero's eyes immediately searched for the wild thing and they found the slave on the opposite wall, slumped on the floor, his head resting against the chain of an arm shackle. The boy had obviously figured out about the bucket that could quite ingeniously be pulled from the wall to be used as his toilet. Heero had that installed along with the magical chains. The scent of piss was filling the room as the bucket was not pushed back into the wall. Another thing he had to teach the boy. But first things first.

He closed the door a little loudly on purpose and it did its job. The slave jerked awake and looked about wildly, then focused on Heero. Glaring, the boy attempted to wipe some entangled hair out of his face – it did not seem to help much – and then he stood up warily, ready to attack. The chains only allowed him a few inches of movement though.

Heero calmly looked back at the boy. "Here's the deal," he said clearly. "This plate contains what you need to survive." He held out the plate with the off-smelling grey goo and put it on the small table near the boy. "This other plate contains what you need to survive as well, but is actually enjoyable to eat. My bed is a mess. If you behave like a good little boy and straighten it, you'll get to eat the enjoyable food. If you don't make my bed, you'll get to eat the other stuff. If you misbehave or make an even worse mess, you'll still get to eat the grey stuff, but you'll be punished first."

Still carrying the plate with the potatoes, Heero stepped back considerably and put his free hand in his pocket where he kept the crystal. He fingered it carefully. The chains would give as much as he intended and he intended to give him enough to reach the bed. He knew the boy had been trained in housekeeping work at one point. But if he gave him too much space, Shinigami could reach him and the slave had already shown he was not afraid to attack his master.

Apparently the slave had been fed before coming here, or he would have probably jumped on the grey, edible goo. Instead, the boy glanced at it once, shot a glare back at Heero and then looked to the bed, as if trying to decide. Not once did he look at the second plate Heero was holding. That confirmed what Heero already suspected. Shinigami would test him.

The young lord watched calmly as the boy stepped forward. The slave's movements seemed odd. Was he injured or had he just been caged for too long? Sure enough the boy walked over to the bed and he let his hand run over the white satin sheet. Though Heero was practically waiting for it, he was still surprised at how quickly the boy moved to grab the sheet. He put the edge in his mouth and pulled his hand down, effectively tearing the sheet up. Then he brought up his other hand and tore it up further. Heero reached in his pocket for the crystal, but the boy caught the movement and let go of the sheet. With a growl that seemed worthy of one called Shinigami, he sprang forward to attack Heero, only to come up a few inches short.

Heero watched the boy struggle against his chains for a few more seconds before he touched the crystal. Immediately, the boy was dragged back by collar and shackles and collided against the wall with a thump.

"I gave you an honest chance." With a shrug Heero set down the plate of good food near the door and stepped towards the boy. He was not pleased with his pet, but the wild one had behaved pretty much as he had expected. He'd been trained in dealing with slaves and the simple truth was that they would always test you, only some would do it sooner rather than later.

Rule number one his father had taught him about dealing with servants was to always carry out your promises and he had promised the boy a punishment for his misbehaviour. He already had his disciplinary method of choice ready, out of the boy's sight. He placed a stool in front of the glaring youth. Then he grabbed a fistful of the hair close to the scalp where it would hurt most and had the crystal give some chain. The boy struggled. Shinigami wasn't weak, but Heero was much stronger – the king often voiced his regret that Heero's father had chosen a life outside the military for his son – and he forced the boy on his knees, leaning over the stool. He let go of the hair to grab one of the slave's arms and pulled it behind his back high, then used the crystal again and the shackle of the free arm was immediately pulled towards the other shackle, magic holding them together. The boy was now awkwardly bent over the stool, arms chained together behind his back and it took Heero little effort to keep him from getting up.

The long, black shirt Heero had chosen for Shinigami was chosen deliberately. The boy wore nothing else, not even underwear so when Heero pulled the shirt back up, he was presented with the boy's bare behind. One hand on the small of the back kept the boy in place and with his other hand he rubbed the boy's buttocks, not too gently.

"Bastard!" He was sure that was what the boy hissed as he tried to struggle against his bonds, against the awkward, revealing position he was held in. Heero reacted by giving the boy a sharp pinch and further ignored it. He was now standing between Shinigami's knees and he knew exactly what the boy was thinking – dreading. It was the whole reason Heero positioned him like this.

Shinigami was expecting to be raped, like he had been so often before. To add to the mindfuck, Heero leaned over the boy, purposely letting that area of his pants touch the near naked one's butt as he said quietly "Accept your punishment, _slave_."

He stepped back and pulled a paddle from behind the small table. With a loud smack he brought it down on the slave's buttocks. A high-pitched yelp sounded as the sharp pain surprised the boy.

"You destroyed my property," Heero said coldly and added another smack. The yelp was now less high-pitched. "You are punished for that with a spanking." A third smack, just out of place from the first two but no sound from the boy this time. "Ten hits should do for that." The paddle was brought down again. The boy was still silent. The fifth blow landed, followed by a sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth. All these hits were endured in silence. Heero looked at the red buttocks. The boy was used to pain as he had expected, but then he was not finished yet.

The boy had stopped struggling and gone limp instead. Heero rubbed the slave's behind, feeling it warm up nicely. "You also tried to attack me," he said thoughtfully. "That earns you twenty hits. You should be happy you did not manage to reach me or I would have doubled that last number." He raised the paddle again to deal out the second part of the punishment. The boy tried to stay silent, but Heero was alternating the blows and after ten more hits the slave could not manage to stay completely silent anymore. The buttocks held enough fat to safely withstand quite a few blows even with a paddle, but especially those blows that fell quite low towards the legs, were met with a muffled grunt.

When the twenty were done, Heero admired his work, stroking the boy's butt. Shinigami tensed at the touch. He felt hot and redness was showing all over his behind. The slave would certainly feel it if he tried to sit on it anytime soon.

Heero pulled the boy's shirt back down and stepped away from him. He allowed the boy's wrists their freedom from each other. Hesitantly, the slave brought his arms to the stool and pushed himself up. He turned towards Heero, but the mass of long, tangled hair covered the slave's eyes and Heero could not be certain that the boy was looking at him. It did not matter though. He touched the crystal once more and the boy was jerked back a few inches to roughly the same amount of space he'd had this afternoon while Heero was gone. It would allow him to sit, but kept him away from anything he could break or use as a weapon.

Heero put the paddle back behind the table and took the plate of grey food. When he stepped towards the boy again, Shinigami backed up. "Eat," Heero ordered, putting the plate on the floor just within the boy's reach. Then he moved back to the door. "That plate had better be in one piece when I get back or you'll have earned yourself another spanking. Also, put your bucket back when you're finished with it. It smells." He picked up the plate with the potatoes and vegetables and with a last, satisfied glance at the bewildered slave, Heero left his chambers.

* * *

princess/rlyblue

Note: Potatoes weren't present in the middle ages in Europe. They didn't come till much later. Just FYI

Please leave your comments in the form of a review!


	3. 02: Fireworks

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing

Again thanks to my beta readers as mentioned in chapter 2!

* * *

2: Fireworks

Freedom. Trowa was beginning to wonder what that meant. When he said that he would like to continue working in the palace – he really did not have any other skills – Quatre had immediately offered him a job as his manservant. It was pretty much the same job he had been doing all along, but now there would be a more professional relationship between them and that, it seemed, meant more distance.

He had his own room now, with the servants and not the slaves. He still shared a bathroom with three others, though. He had pretty good wages – at least he thought so. Truly he had no idea what wages were supposed to be like, but he had one day a week off in which he was free to come as he pleased and he'd spent yesterday in town just looking at the prices of various things in order to get a feel for how long he would have to work to buy some stuff of his own. He knew about groceries, having been sent on errands before, but he had no idea what furniture would cost or even a simple painting. With the five hundred silver pieces he had been given upon his release he would actually be able to pay a year's worth of rent on an average home in town. Not that he intended to do so. What would he do in an average home when he had no skills and no family name to speak of? And the palace was a grand place, not at all difficult to live in.

Besides, his lover was here.

The crown prince had persuaded his father to buy him when they were both in their early teens. It had not taken long for their physical desires to become obvious. The blond haired prince had been the first to voice it, but he had refused to do anything unless Trowa really wanted it as well. And once Trowa had managed to convince the prince that he was not just offering himself out of duty, they'd started experimenting. And it had been wonderful.

Whenever Quatre went on a trip he tried to take Trowa and whenever he could not, Trowa's heart ached while he waited for the other man to return. The servants noticed that he was more gloomy and quiet than usual on those days and he had heard from conversations afterwards that Quatre had not been his usual kind self on those trips either. Once they were reunited and the night was all theirs again they were hardly able to let go of each other.

But since he'd been set free nearly a week ago Quatre had not once sought him out at night, nor had he invited Trowa to his chambers. In fact, they had barely seen each other. So Trowa was left wondering if freedom would ever be worth it.

Life had certainly changed more than he thought it would. Quatre had announced his freedom first thing that morning. But though he still did the same chores as before, he found that his presence was met by whispers. The few slaves that served in this part of the house – Quatre had come to dislike the idea of slaves since they had met so he kept very few – seemed to regard him differently now, as if he had betrayed them or something.

The servants had not changed their behaviour towards him at all, however. They still sent him about on small chores even if Quatre's orders dictated otherwise. Slaves were expected to do all their chores sooner or later and he actually had to remind them that he was not a slave anymore and only got paid for so many hours. He did not mind hard work, but when the chime rang at midnight he really wanted to be in bed, for the crown prince rose early in the morning and he had to be up and ready to help him dress. And he was expected to have his own meals at set times now rather than just shovelling something in his mouth whenever he found the time. With Prince Quatre no longer requesting his presence in the evenings, wanting to share snacks, he really had to make time to eat his dinner.

He wondered why people seemed to regard him so strangely. Was it because he was a freed slave? There weren't any others like him in the Prince's parts of the palace, so he had no one to ask. Trowa's people came from the north and all of his people who lived in this land were slaves as far as Trowa knew. He himself had been born a slave twenty-one years ago. He had no clue who his parents were. By the time he was seven he'd already been sold more than once.

Setting slaves free was a practice that had not been allowed until the current king Winner ascended to the throne. Was it because people disagreed with his freedom that they had such attitude towards him or was it because he was considered a Northerner? He certainly didn't consider himself a Northerner. He knew the customs and feasts of this land and he knew what the people were like and what they expected here. He'd never been very far to the north and he didn't think he would like the cold.

Whatever the reason, it was starting to irritate Trowa that people seemed to regard him as less than the free man that he was. He wasn't trying to get in anyone's way any more than he had before so he really saw no reason for them to treat him like this.

Suddenly a door to his right burst open and a plump, middle-aged woman entered, her dark, greying hair not at all as neat as was generally expected in the Royal household. Several loose strands hung in her face and she brushed them away as they reached her light-coloured eyes. She seemed to be in a hurry, but stopped dead when she saw him. "Finally, someone." She barely spared him a glance before she pointed at him. "You! Get the prince here, now!"

That was just another example of how he was treated here. Well, he was fed up with it. He was a free man now and they should remember that. "I'm not a slave."

The woman scowled at him. "I don't care what you are!" she replied impatiently. "The prince's wife is in labour and the baby is coming now! Get him here so he can greet his first-born." With that the woman slammed the door shut, leaving Trowa behind looking bewildered. The baby was coming now? He glanced around and to his surprise noticed that he had wandered towards the Queen's quarters. They were not far from Prince Quatre's quarters, but he tended to avoid this part of the palace more than any other part of it, for this was where _she_ lived.

Princess Relena.

Prince Quatre's wife since last year.

Now to be the mother of his child.

His heart suddenly felt heavy. It had been an arranged marriage and the prince had assured him that it would change things only on a formal level. Of course, Trowa had known he could never truly be with the prince in public. It was Quatre Winner's duty to produce an heir and marriage was a sacred bond between two people, even if it was arranged and not based on passion for each other. And anyway, Trowa was much too low to ever be with a prince. But since she had come, Quatre had been spending too much time with her. He'd said that if he was to spend his whole life with her, he should get to know her better. It was the same kindness the prince had showed him when he'd first come into his service. Bittersweet as it was, it was the same kindness that had caused him to fall head over heels for the man who owned him, body and soul.

That same man had begun to distance himself. And now this child was finally here. Trowa had known it was on its way, of course. But with the strangeness of the past week, he completely forgot about the princess carrying his lover's child. With a heavy sigh he set out for his former master's quarters.

* * *

"Well? Is it born yet? Is she decent? Can I go in?" With an impatience Trowa rarely saw in the prince, Quatre fired the questions at the same plump woman who had come to greet them on their way to the princess' quarters.

"Yes, your highness, the child is born. You may go in right away."

Quatre strode up to the door, but there he halted, turning back. "Boy or girl?" The anticipation was clear in his voice.

"Why don't you see for yourself, Your Highness?" the plump woman answered with a smile.

Grinning broadly, Quatre entered his wife's bedchamber. Trowa followed and took a position against the wall by the door, watching the prince as he moved to greet Princess Relena with a kiss on her forehead. They always greeted each other like that. It was more than Quatre had given Trowa since that night he'd been set free and he could not help but feel a strange sensation as he watched the crown prince rub his wife's arm.

"This is him?" he asked, looking at the bundle of moving blankets that was resting on Princess Relena's chest.

"Her, my husband." She smiled up at him tiredly. "We have a daughter."

"A daughter." A son ensured the throne more than a daughter did. The previous king had decided to change the law after his son's wife bore their ninth daughter, but sons still preceded daughters. Women could only inherit the throne if they were married to the right man. Still, Quatre seemed as proud as any father would be.

"And a healthy one too, Your Highness." The tall woman with the red-stained apron and a towel in her hand said. "Cried right hard as she should when she was born and carries a fine weight."

"May I hold her?" Quatre asked his wife who nodded and picked up the bundle of blankets.

"Be sure to support her head."

Trowa silently watched how Quatre carefully picked up the bundle as if it was laden with something more fragile than porcelain. He carefully placed the bundle in his arms, not able to take his eyes off the child. He rocked it gently, quietly talking to his newborn daughter and when he thought he had her secure he moved one hand to play with her, still rocking her. He seemed to have forgotten his surroundings entirely and frankly Princess Relena seemed glad for the few moments of rest this gave her. She looked up at her husband with such contentment... They almost seemed like the perfect family.

He understood then that this was exactly what he would never be able to give Quatre, a child to love and an heir to the throne. Two men together could not make babies. It was as simple as that. One man could not give another man a family. When he had been a slave, them sleeping together had meant nothing. Slaves didn't count. But now that he was free that had changed. No wonder Quatre was pulling away from him. And it was perfect timing as well that he had been set free just a week before this new arrival.

The king had obviously received the news, for he had come and was given permission to enter as well. He ignored all present except for his son and his daughter-in-law and the little bundle. He congratulated the pair and commented on how beautiful the child was. Trowa had to disagree with that. The few glances he had caught had shown him a child as ugly as those Quatre's sisters had birthed The only two newborns he'd ever seen that weren't ugly were Prince Jamy and Princess Arianna, a niece and nephew of Quatre's who'd been born a couple of years ago. But all the other babies had grown out of their weird looks eventually. He figured this one would as well.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" The king asked when he took the little girl from Quatre's arms to hold.

"Katherine." Quatre answered without hesitation – it had been his mother's name – and he looked at his wife. "Katherine Amelia Relena Winner."

* * *

So, the child had been born? That meant that all throughout the country festivities would be organised to celebrate a new generation for the throne. As head of the Yuy household it was Heero's father who would send the formal response to the news, but it would be Heero who'd be expected to attend the party.

Half the country had said prayers to be given a young prince, as that would bring more certainty than a princess would. As any politically correct father-to-be, the prince had not voiced an opinion for the sex of his baby, simply stating that either would be fine, so long as the child was healthy. It was the kind of answer Heero had come to expect from the well-raised prince.

The Yuy house was not far from the city and just walking past a window gave enough evidence that the celebrations had already started. The noise from various festivities could be heard and every now and then coloured fire bolts went up in the air. Tonight, when the sky darkened, there would probably be several fire shows and those were always quite a sight to see, even from up here.

It would depend on his work and his mood whether or not he would be joining the festivities. He would certainly not be the only one of the upper class to go if he went. That was tonight, though. For now he had other matters to take care of. Like the first day the Shinigami had arrived and three times a day ever since, Heero was climbing the stairs carrying two trays of food, one with the same strange smelling grey gelatinous substance. This afternoon the other plate held a piece of fresh barley bread, cheese and an apple. It was time for the slave to choose his meal again.

The boy had not caused as much trouble as he had that first evening. Once or twice he refused to move at all, which resulted in him being given barely enough chain to sit down until the next meal where he'd get another chance to behave. After that he'd eaten his grey food each time and then just stood back, waiting for the chains to be retracted again. Last night, though, the slave had been in a bad mood. He'd decided to redecorate the wall by throwing the plate with the food at it. He'd almost managed to throw it out the window! Of course, he had been punished for the broken plate and the mess – a switching this time – at which point a string of curses directed at Heero had been released so Heero had dealt out punishment for that as well. Having wasted his food from last night, Shinigami had leapt onto his food this morning, eating it with record speed.

It was later than usual and with a missed meal just yesterday Heero figured the slave would be quite hungry. Sure enough the boy's head lifted the moment Heero opened the door and he stood up before Heero had even set the plate down. Heero retreated and let his hand slide in his pocket to touch the crystal. The rattling of the chains started up immediately, allowing Shinigami enough freedom to move around the bed. "You know the deal."

The boy immediately moved to the plate with the grey food, but to Heero's surprise the slave did not start eating. He had his back turned to Heero so the young lord could not see what the slave was doing, but he seemed to be hesitating. Instead he fingered the plate for a moment, then shook his head – the completely tangled hair moved as one big bunch – and the boy turned to look at Heero. Or perhaps he was looking at the food he was holding, Heero could not tell as the mass of brown hair covered the eyes enough to hide their direction. The boy turned to the bed and back to the food in Heero's hand.

Heero had seen him stealing glances at the food that was held back before, but never as obvious as this. Change was good. Shinigami was obviously starting to consider whether the alternative meal was worth doing a chore. Heero decided to give him some time to think it over. Was the Shinigami finally going to bend?

But the boy did not move from his spot. Heero just put a hand back in his pocket to retract the chains when the boy suddenly moved towards the bed. Sure enough he began straightening the covers. He wasn't being very neat about it and when he stood back it didn't look very good at all. The boy turned expectantly to Heero, who just raised an eyebrow. This one had been trained in housekeeping, he could do better than that. With a sigh, the Shinigami pulled the covers straight as they should be and he even beat the pillows to their rightful shape.

That was better.

"Stand back." Heero nodded towards the wall and the boy returned to the spot he'd come to regard as his. Heero retracted the chains, leaving enough space for the boy to reach the table. Then the lord put the better food on the table and took back the plate of grey food. "Good boy." He said and stood back and watched as Shinigami enjoyed its first decent meal since his arrival.

* * *

A week. Heero had expected the slave to take longer than that. Then again, how the boy could stand eating that grey food with the strange smell for a whole week was beyond him as well. He'd been told the food smelled worse than it tasted, but he had never exactly been enticed to try it for himself.

Now the question was, would this just be a one-time thing or was he going to cooperate again? Tonight was spiced pork night with a mug of watered cider. Would the boy do another chore to earn another good meal or would he think one good meal was enough for now?

In one hand Heero carried the two plates and the mug and in the other hand he had a bucket of soap water and a rag. The boy was huddled in the blankets Heero had given him the first night, looking at the window. When his owner came in, the boy looked up.

Heero put down the bucket and rag and the plate of grey food, then turned to his slave. "My bed's been made, but my wall still carries your food from yesterday," he explained. "Clean it up and you'll get the other plate." Then he stood back, gave enough chain for the boy to reach the wall and watched.

There seemed to be hesitation again, for quite a long moment while the boy frowned at the food. This time Heero could see Shinigami's face and he saw how the boy's nose wrinkled in disgust at the smell. Then his hands moved to the bucket, choosing to clean instead.

Heero had been early on purpose. Since he had forbidden anyone to enter his bedchamber without his express permission since he'd gotten Shinigami locked up in there, the food had not been removed yet. It had been there a whole day and it would take quite some scrubbing to get it off now. So when the boy started cleaning, Heero sat down in his comfortable chair and leaned back, watching the boy.

It was a few minutes later when he noticed the slave wasn't really cleaning anymore. His hand still held the rag and he was moving it over the wall, but he'd been brushing that same spot for a while now. The boy's attention was instead drawn to the sight outside. The sun was setting and darkness was creeping in. The boy was watching the coloured lights in the sky.

They came a lot more frequently now than they had this afternoon. Blue, white, green, red, yellow, purple, every colour seemed to be present, yellow and purple in particular as those were the colours of the Winner family and with that the colours of the country.

The Shinigami was so absorbed by the sight that he did not even notice when Heero got up and moved to stand behind him. Then again, Heero was not exactly trying to make noise. It was the first time the slave was really showing an interest in anything – the first time anything remotely interesting happened since he got here, Heero figured – and for some reason it made him wonder what the Shinigami could possibly be thinking.

He stood silently for a moment, then decided the boy had lingered long enough and he coughed.

The slave jumped at the sound. With a yelp he whirled around and was about to leap away when Heero firmly caught the boy's wrist. This caused the slave to slip, hitting his foot against the wall. He let out a pained grunt and started struggling against Heero's hold. For a moment Heero thought the Shinigami might become dangerous, but then he saw the eyes were wide. That wasn't anger. That was fear. The boy was not weak, but in his desperation to pull away he wasn't moving very effectively, pulling against Heero's palm. The other hand was flailing about frantically. When it found the bucket of soap water, it grabbed hold and the boy tried to use it as leverage to get himself free, but the bucket betrayed him and instead fell over, spilling its dirty contents right down Heero's legs.

That seemed to push the boy deeper into his panic attack, but Heero'd had enough. He tightened his grip on the boy's wrist, yanked him closer and slapped him in his face, hard enough to sting. "Calm down. Now!"

It seemed to work, for though the slave remained tense, he ceased his struggles, his face turned away from Heero and to the floor. Heero gave himself a few moments to calm down. If he handled this the wrong way, he could screw up everything he had achieved in this past week. Finally he took the boy's chin firmly in his free hand and turned the slave's face towards his. The boy hardly resisted, except that he did not focus his eyes on Heero until the latter tightened the hand on the boy's wrist in warning.

"There is no need to panic when I come near." He spoke unemotionally. "If I decide you need to be punished you will be punished. Fighting it can only make things worse." He felt a shudder run through the Shinigami's body. "Do you understand?"

The boy did not answer, just looked at him with those big, untrusting eyes. Heero tightened the fingers holding the boy's chin. "I said, do you understand?"

"Yes." Barely audible. Not good enough. The boy had better learn now.

Heero narrowed his eyes, knowing full well the effect that could have when he was the one doing it. "What was that?"

"Yes... Master." That was better.

"Good." Heero let go of the boy and stepped away from the puddle of water, then looked over the mess the boy had made. The soap water had also flushed over the plate with the slave food. The boy knew another one would not be brought up. "The bathroom is through that door. You'll find clean towels there. Clean up this mess. Clean up the wall." Then he looked at the window and as an afterthought he added, "The fireworks won't get interesting until full darkness anyway."

It was nearly an hour later when the slave had earned his good food. He'd had trouble working the water in the bathroom, but he didn't ask and instead managed to figure it out on his own. This slave was clearly not stupid. If he were then he would never have gotten away with murdering his previous owners. Never forget that. This was the Shinigami and if he was not controlled in the right way things could become dangerous.

Heero had changed into a clean set of clothes. It had startled the slave when he'd returned from the bathroom with the towels and found his master near naked, but Heero had not even spared the slave a glance and had just continued getting dressed. Then, while the boy cleaned he'd gone to the study on the ground floor to get the papers stating this week's farmer requests. It was that time of the week again and he would regret it if he left them for tomorrow. Now the slave had finished eating and Heero had not bothered to retract the chains yet. Full darkness had fallen and the Shinigami stood at the window, one hand resting on the windowsill, the chain attached to that shackle almost completely strained.

Heero easily tuned out the sounds and the lightning of the festivities and the fireworks as he worked, but he did notice every movement the Shinigami made. The boy did not move much, which was probably the reason Heero tolerated him watching the fireworks. So long as he could work in peace he did not care whether the boy lay in his blankets or stood by the window.

"Dragon's Torch." It was spoken in a whisper, but Heero heard it anyway.

"What was that?" he asked.

"N-nothing," the boy answered quickly, then clearly felt the tension as he added, "Master." A little late.

"What is a Dragon's Torch?" Heero questioned.

"It's just a type of firework," the wild boy answered quietly. "It shoots up a colour, twirling like a dragon would, and then explodes at the end like the dragon breathing fire."

"Hn." The boy must be feeling somewhat relaxed if he was volunteering information that was not directly asked for. Heero didn't need to wonder how the slave knew. He had extensive records of the boy's past and they started with him being imported by a merchant who sold fireworks.

That evening, the slave stood at the window for all the time it took Heero to work through the requests. And when Heero was done and announced it was time for bed the boy went to lay down in his blankets without protest. This was a good evening. Perhaps Heero should work from his own chambers more often. The boy needed to know he could trust that his master would not harm him without cause. It was probably the fastest way to get him to bend absolutely to Heero's will.

* * *

princess/rlyblue

Reviews are very much appreciated! Let me know if you think the characters are believable or not.


	4. 03: A servant's job

Disclaimers, warnings, thanks, see previous chapters

* * *

3: A servant's job

Why did so many people share the opinion that babies were fantastic? Babies eat, they cry, they sleep, they cry, they poop and then they cry some more. It was exactly the same for the newborn princess. Baby Katherine may be small, but her voice could be heard all throughout the wing if she decided things didn't go the way she liked it. And she was barely a week old! Then why were the other servants all of a sudden so interested in serving the crown prince's wife? He'd seen the child just after it was born and he found that he was not in the least interested in the small wailing bundle. When it started crying, he just wished someone would shut her the hell up!

The nursery was placed in the mother's wing, in a room adjoined to hers and no less than three women had been hired to take care of the small princess. Why any baby would need three strangers to look after her while her own mother was temporarily relieved of her formal duties to care for the child was another riddle Trowa could not answer. But then, a lot of things happened in the palace that did not make sense.

Since he was a free man now, he was quite content that he seemed more interested in men than women. Sure, some people viewed two men together as unholy or wrong, but he couldn't see why that was. He could only see advantages of being with a man instead of a woman. How many male servants had he not heard complain about how their wives were acting strange again, making no sense or being angry while refusing to tell them what about? How many men were not actually controlled by their women even if they attempted to deny it? How many men had he not heard complain that there was yet another child on its way, another mouth to feed, another couple of months where the wife would become completely unreasonable at times? No, Trowa did not think he'd ever want a wife. And he did not think he'd ever want children either. He could tolerate the older ones, but the younger ones just seemed so... useless. Why could they not be able to walk and talk when they came out? Would be a lot easier.

So when he was told the prince was expecting him in the nursery, he was not very happy about it. But as the prince's manservant it was his duty to see to the prince's needs and so Trowa made his way to the nursery, where he found his former master in a high backed chair, holding his sleeping daughter. Looking around the room, Trowa was surprised to find that they were alone. No maids, no nannies.

"I sent them out on errands," Prince Quatre did not even look up. "Even though she's only a week old they are already spoiling her."

Trowa said nothing. He never was one to waste words.

"What do you think of my daughter?"

Trowa hesitated. "She looks strong, Your Highness." This prince had a knack for knowing when people were lying, so lying should be avoided around him. The girl did seem strong for a babe, especially when she was using that voice of hers to get attention.

The prince sighed. "I would prefer it if you did not address me so formally when we are in private, Trowa." He looked up at his manservant. "Just 'Prince' should be enough of a title."

"As you wish."

"You don't like her?" Quatre asked, looking back at the sleeping miniature girl in his arms.

"I..." How to put this delicately? "I have never been very fond of small children."

"Yes, I remember." The prince must be thinking of all those times his nieces and nephews were around playing when Trowa had to serve. He had been stiff as a board. "But somehow this feels different. You feel different."

Was he talking about that empathy? "I thought it did not work like that?"

"The closer I am to someone emotionally, the better I can pick them out. I told you that."

Trowa said nothing, but instead leaned against the wall next to the door, arms crossed and watched the prince from under his hair.

"You seem... different lately. Off. Is something bothering you?"

"No, my Prince."

Quatre's face showed that sad smile Trowa had come to know very well. "Please don't lie to me, Trowa. Not you." The prince leaned back in the chair so he could look at the tall servant more easily. "Do you wish you had not stayed on as my manservant?"

"If I did, should I not quit?" The safest way to answer a question you did not really want to answer truthfully was to answer it with a question. The truth was that Trowa just wasn't certain what he wanted. The job itself was easy. He'd done it for years and he knew what was expected of him. It was everything else surrounding it that had him off-balance. The way the servants and the slaves regarded him now, as something in-between but not part of either was difficult. And since Trowa had been set free it was like a wall had been erected between the prince and the former slave, which was much harder to bear. Trowa could feel it clearly and in a way he could understand it, but he did not like it one bit.

Quatre frowned, looking up at Trowa. "Someone just turned negative and I doubt it was me."

Caught, Trowa looked away. That was indeed the empathy that the prince seemed to have. He'd explained it several times. It wasn't like he could just point at anyone in a crowd and tell exactly what they were feeling. In fact, in crowds all the emotions were jumbled together and the prince had to strain hard to stay polite and not let himself be overwhelmed by everyone's emotions. In crowds he could barely filter out his own, let alone figuring out what another individual was feeling.

But when he was alone with someone it was an entirely different story. If the prince took the necessary preparations he would know how he was feeling himself, so when another joined him he could filter the other person's feelings from his own. Even then, though, it was hard to actually name them. Anger, jealousy, contempt, hate, those were all negative emotions that were hard to distinguish from one another. Happiness, pride, joy, those felt positive but Quatre would still need to know the person real well to be able to tell which of the emotions it was most likely to be. He'd have to know the person, know what was going on in order to translate it into words.

Suddenly, Trowa realised what was going on. "Is that why you sent everyone on errands?" He asked, perhaps a little harder than was safe with a crown prince. "Did you wish to read me?"

Quatre noticed the tone of voice and it was one he rarely heard from the tall, quiet boy. It surprised him and not in a good way. "I did not wish to offend you," he said. "You never seemed to mind before."

That was before. Before Trowa had been set free. Before the child was born. Before the wall between them had risen. Now it left Trowa feeling more naked than he'd felt when being ordered to strip in front of guests.

"What is going on with us, Trowa?" But before Trowa could even think of an answer, the bundle in the prince's arms began to stir as the child was starting to wake. Quatre stood up carefully, both arms holding the moving child now. "We'll talk about this later. You may go now."

That he did not need to hear twice. He pushed himself away from the wall and nearly fled the room. What was going on with them? Trowa had been wondering that himself.

* * *

It had been a week since the boy had decided to cooperate and the past week had continued rather well. He'd had the Shinigami do several chores to earn the edible food – making the bed, cleaning the floor, tidying up the room, cleaning the bathroom, dusting, fixing clothes – and the boy had done them all. Some of the chores were met with quite a fierce scowl. Heero did not care. As long as they were done properly he considered the meal earned.

A couple of days ago, when he sent the boy dusting his sitting chamber, he found the Shinigami muttering all sorts of curses, quite a few mentioning Heero and what he wished to do to him. Heero gave him a good switching for that. The boy still showed the welts. Heero did not appreciate being threatened in any way, especially not by a sulking slave. Still the boy had dusted the chamber as he should have and so, after the switching he was given his food.

Shinigami had not exactly been clean when he got here, but now he looked even dirtier than before. Heero had not allowed him to bathe, fearing what the boy would do and the great mass of hair that decorated more than just his head at the moment was completely tangled and it had bits of spilled food in it. But when he suggested he just cut it off, the boy had reacted in such a violent way – Heero happened to stand out of the boy's reach when he'd mentioned it – that the young lord was now reconsidering it. For some reason the hair seemed important to the slave. That meant it could be used as leverage if Shinigami decided to continue resisting his control.

Still, the boy was starting to smell and he needed to be cleaned up. That much was definite. And he knew exactly who to ask for that task. Helen was one of those servants Heero knew was invaluable to his staff. She was the kind of woman who accepted no nonsense from anyone working under her but she also had that kind, motherly air around her. She worked five days a week and on those days her staff, servant or slave, rarely gave any trouble. If anyone could make the unruly slave behave for a few hours, it would be her.

A sudden pull of the reigns brought Heero's mind back to the present. He glanced down at the snowy white horse he was riding and gently petted him. "Easy now, Zero." He mumbled and glanced around. He'd almost reached the private land that belonged to his family. The horse, going at an easy pace, shook his head again and blew from his nose.

"What, you getting bored?" Heero shifted in his saddle. "Very well." He kicked his heels and the horse reacted immediately, speeding up to a fast gallop in no time. Heero laughed quietly as he adapted to the horse's movements and let himself enjoy the rush of air that came with the speed. He barely needed to guide the stallion, for the horse knew exactly where to go. Within minutes they reached the Yuy family's lands. The horse sped directly towards the lowest part in the fence. The guards that were just going on their rounds jumped away barely in time, for the horse was speeding up rather than slowing down and with a magnificent force jumped into the air, crossing the border with practised ease. A few minutes later horse and rider arrived at the stables and Heero jumped down even before Zero pulled to a full stop.

"Had a good trip, Master Yuy?"

The boy's name was Leo. Heero made it a point to know the names of all those who served him. Something he'd picked up from Prince Quatre. It was the kind of simple gesture they seemed to appreciate and it made them want to do their job just a little better.

"He gave me quite a ride there," Heero answered, handing his riding gauntlets to the stable boy. "Brush him down good and then give him a treat."

"Will do, Master Yuy."

Heading for the house, Heero brushed a hand through his hair. Riding like that always left him feeling refreshed, energetic. He really wished he had more time to actually go horseback riding for recreational purposes rather than for work.

Geoffrey was already awaiting him at the door. "Welcome back, My Lord," he said with a bow.

"Geoffrey." Heero pulled off his cloak and hat and handed it to his butler. "Have my lunch served in the dining hall and the boy's food prepared. And get Helen to wait for me in the dining room."

"As you wish, My Lord." And they were off in their separate ways, Geoffrey towards the kitchens and Heero up to his own room.

The slave was sitting on his blankets cross-legged and, as usual, watched him as he came in. Heero said nothing, just sat on his bed to take off his riding clothes. He casually dumped them on the floor until he was in nothing but his underpants. He snatched the control crystal from the dresser and headed to the bathroom to shower. "Clean up," he told the boy, giving him more chain in passing, knowing full well that this time he was not carrying food for the slave yet. The slave did set to work. Good. He seemed to understand.

It didn't take more than a minute or so to wash up. By the time he got himself dressed the boy had taken care of his discarded riding clothes and was just picking up the dirty boots.

"Clean those," Heero told him, heading for the door. "And clean your bucket as well."

"What?" The boy glared at him in disgust. "Do it yourself!"

Another attempt to resist him? He wasn't used to being given two jobs before having earned his food. Heero paused at the door and turned around and spoke slowly. "Clean your bucket or its contents will be your next meal." Rule number two his father had taught him about controlling slaves. Never make promises you don't intend to keep. By now the boy should be able to guess.

Shinigami sneered at him and muttered a barely audible "Bastard" but he pulled out the bucket anyway.

"Slave." Ignoring the boy's mutterings further, Heero left the room.

Helen was a woman in her middle years, rather plain looking with brown hair worn in a bun and grey eyes that always seemed to be looking right through you. It had taken Heero quite some time to get used to this woman for that reason – he deeply valued his privacy and she always seemed to know everything – but she was good at her job and well respected. She gave him a small curtsy. "You asked for me, My Lord?"

"I did." He sat down and the woman patiently waited for him to speak, which he did after having tasted his food.

"By now I am certain there are quite some rumours going around as to why I have forbidden you to enter my private chambers."

"There are, My Lord." She paused a moment, choosing her words. "They say you acquired a personal servant, a wild one." Heero continued eating. She took it as a sign he wanted her to continue. "Several suggestions were made. Some said it is an illegal slave. Others claim you may have taken in the one they call the Shinigami." By the tone of her voice Heero understood she did not believe the tales that claimed the last part.

"They are right," he told her, "it is the Shinigami."

Helen's eyes widened in shock and she put a hand over her mouth. Quite an achievement. This woman was not impressed easily. "My Lord!" She gasped.

"He is wild as the rumours say. The past few weeks I have been working with him and he seems to be learning who is in charge and who is not. He is much like a wild animal, but he is not insane." He took a sip of his wine, giving her time to process this information.

"He needs to be cleaned," he stated then, looking at her. "And I want you to do it, this afternoon."

She seemed taken aback by that. "My Lord, are you... Are you certain?" There was a hint of doubt –or perhaps it was fear, Heero couldn't tell.

"I am." He told her, taking another bite of his food. "I have come to believe that his anger towards myself is mainly caused by what I represent. I believe you will be safe. Either way I have him chained in my bedroom.

"Listen carefully, for the chains are very special. I shall give him enough room to move around as you need him to, but under no circumstances should you attempt to take off his chains. They are connected to a crystal and if anyone tries to manipulate the chains in any way but with the crystal the collar will send pain. The body remains untouched, but the pain he feels, he feels for real and it is quite severe. I know he found out just how severe at least twice since he got here."

She nodded slowly, thinking about his words.

"You can use it to punish him as you see fit if he disobeys you," Heero went on. "But I will attempt to convince him of the benefits of cooperation. Despite that I want you to station two guards in the hallway out of his sight, just in case. Discuss a codeword you will use if you need them, but try not to." He had his reasons for that. He wanted to know how the Shinigami behaved around servants. For that it was vital that the boy felt safe from the prying eyes of those who would harm him.

"You may start anytime once I finish feeding him lunch."

"As you wish," Helen answered. "Is there anything in particular you want me to do?"

"Make him look presentable. He has a massive amount of hair that is completely tangled." The young lord instructed before frowning thoughtfully. "Should you decide to mention cutting it, be certain you are out of his reach." He added as an afterthought.

Helen seemed to consider that. "I will do what I can to preserve it."

"Acceptable. That is all."

"My Lord." The servant curtsied and started for the door.

"Oh, one more thing, Helen," Heero called after her. "Don't mention my actual name."

Helen frowned at that, but did not question the order. Instead she curtsied again before leaving the dining hall.

Heero considered that last order. It was quite possible the Shinigami had heard his name mentioned before he'd been brought here, but Heero had never introduced himself as anything other than the slave's owner. He would find out sooner or later, but at the moment the boy did not need to know his name. For now he should only know Heero as his 'master'.

* * *

Heero was pleased when he came up with the slave's lunch to find out the boy had indeed cleaned the boots. He checked the bucket, found it clean as well and then allowed the Shinigami to eat.

"Stand up against the wall." He ordered the boy when he finished lunch. The Shinigami looked at him with distrust, but the master's hand touching his pocket got him moving, albeit slowly. When he stood in place, Heero retracted the chains, effectively restraining the boy against the wall. The shackles on his wrists were also pulled back, at the same height as the collar.

The slave's eyes followed the master warily as Heero closed in on him.

"Listen carefully," he spoke quietly, sounding completely in control. "One of my servants will be coming in this afternoon. She will be here to clean you up. I expect you to obey her."

Heero stopped so close to the slave that their bodies were almost touching. "I have given her permission to punish you if you fight her." He let a finger run over the boy's collar and the slave's eyes narrowed as he understood just what kind of punishment he meant. "But I know she will not do so if you cooperate."

He let his hand trail to the boy's wrist and then to the palm of his hand to play there. The boy was tense and his leg twitched, but Heero stepped even closer, his knee dangerously close to the boy's private parts. The slave began to sweat, though those wild eyes never lost their disgust.

Heero brought his mouth closer to the boy's ear and spoke slowly in an audible whisper. "If you harm her or even so much as attempt to, aside from what she may do to you, I will have you flogged until you're begging me for mercy and then some." He pulled back far enough to look the wild boy in the eyes. "Do you understand?"

The boy gritted his teeth and looked at him with such contempt, Heero was surprised he managed to spit out a "Yes." Heero's free hand moved to the boy's scalp, but before it could reach the dark mass of hair the boy added a "Master."

"Good."

The young lord stepped back from his possession, giving him one more warning look. Then he touched the crystal, freeing the boy from his defenceless position and left the room. Now all he had to do was wait for Helen to report back.

* * *

rlyblue

Tell me if you like the devellopment or not. Do you think it's realistic? Or don't you like this darker than usual tone I'm setting and do you want Duo to just be freed and fall in love? I love hearing from you guys, even if it's just to let me know you read it! Nothing encourages a writer more than to hear from the readers!


	5. 04: The knight and the last dragon

Guest/kim: Yes, I'm exploring the themes of trust, freedom and bondage. I'm not sure Duo couldn't be a sub. But in order to submit to someone willingly you need to trust that person first. Duo's not there yet.

Warnings, thanks and disclaimer in previous chapters

* * *

4: The Knight and the Last Dragon

King Milliardo Peacecraft would be arriving in eight days. It was announced only minutes ago, but immediately the palace seemed to come alive completely. Arrangements had to be made for the king and his entourage to receive the appropriate chambers, which for a king meant that they got an entire wing to themselves, including a full set of servants to be at their disposal. Furthermore the king's arrival meant that a few days later the formal gathering to celebrate the birth of Crown Prince Quatre's daughter and possible future heir to the throne would be held. That meant invitations had to be sent out and preparations had to be made.

Trowa had no duties in the first part. He was Prince Quatre's personal servant and would therefore not have much to do with the king's arrival. He would go where Prince Quatre went or where Prince Quatre sent him. That was no different from usual.

However, the formal gathering was another matter. Since this party was thrown in honour of Quatre's daughter and Quatre was the formal host, Trowa would be having his hands full with preparations. Already the crown prince had given him a list of errands to run. It suited Trowa just fine, as it meant less time to spend around the crown prince and therefore less time for the prince to question him again.

Trowa had met King Peacecraft only twice before. Once was when he'd first come to the palace years ago, when he'd just taken the throne to his kingdom. The previous King Peacecraft and his wife had been killed when Milliardo was only five or six. Formally that immediately made the young child king, but because of his young age an uncle had stepped in. And then another and then another and then another. It had been quite a fight for the throne, Trowa understood. Twice an attempt had been made to take young Milliardo's life and twice had it been revealed one of his uncles had been behind it. They seemed to want the throne for themselves.

Once Milliardo reached the age of seventeen he'd had his hands full trying to secure the throne for himself, but he had a couple of clever people backing him up. Of course, those same clever people had then tried to use Milliardo as their puppet. It was the marriage of his younger sister to Prince Quatre, which king Milliardo had allegedly arranged on his own that had finally given him some true power. The Winner family had had quite a steady rule for nearly a hundred years and this marriage sealed the kind of alliance those uncles of the king would find hard to break.

The wedding, of course, was the second time Trowa had met the beautiful but distant king. He'd been impressed by the change he had observed. King Peacecraft had truly grown into a man of stature. The mere way he walked seemed to demand respect and a simple word could send servants scurrying. Yet if he was anything like his sister, then Trowa thought he might become a ruler of mercy rather than one of fear.

Princess Relena was a mistress of second chances. She knew what she wanted, but she also accepted that humans were just that, human. Her gentle nature only seemed to compliment that of Prince Quatre's. Trowa remembered the long conversations he'd had with his master while he was engaged to this woman he'd only met once before. It was a marriage to bind two nations together. It was a marriage to show where the Winner family stood. His master had been concerned about what she would be like, if he would be good enough for her. Trowa had wondered if she would ever be good enough for him.

But the two had reached some kind of understanding Trowa wasn't sure he liked and now that they had a child to tie them together Trowa knew he didn't like it at all. Why could she not be a cruel, spoiled woman, the kind that Prince Quatre could never like? Perhaps then the prince would not seem so out of reach anymore.

Trowa looked down at his list of assignments. He was in charge of almost everything that concerned the crown prince, from making sure his garments for each stage of the foreign king's visit was in order to seeing to it that the prince's personal crockery was complete, to checking the guest list the prince had provided, see if anyone was missing and taking care of all their responses.

For the next eight days he had to keep an eye on all those servants who still seemed to regard him as little more than a slave. And with everybody's leave cancelled or revoked and everybody in a hurry to get everything arranged in time, Trowa doubted many of them would be in their best moods. Oh, this was going to be one week of pure hell.

* * *

"My Lord?"

Heero looked up from his papers to see the woman he'd been waiting for curtsying for him. "Are you finished?"

The servant woman nodded. "Yes, My Lord. It took a while, but I managed to clean him up nicely."

"Good." Heero stretched himself and then stood up. "Was he trouble?"

"Not at all, My Lord," Helen answered. "In fact I found him rather enjoyable company, once I convinced him I was not going to cut his hair."

"He spoke to you?"

"Yes, My Lord. He spoke a lot, although he did not really say much. He said things like that he thought my hair was pretty and that he once knew a woman who looked a little like me."

"Hn." That was certainly something to consider. Heero had never heard the slave speak anything freely except for a string of curses. If he would speak to a servant, then he was at least right about his assumption that the boy saw Heero as the evil one and not the ones who did not own him. It was annoying, but something he could use at the same time.

"There is the matter of his clothing, My Lord."

Heero looked at the servant woman. "What about it?"

"Well, the black rag he was wearing was as filthy as the rest of him. Since the chains could not be removed, it had to be cut away or I would not have been able to clean him. But because of those same chains no fresh clothes could be put on him either."

No clothes. The Shinigami was naked? The wild beast in his full glory, that might cause problems. Slaves were often punished with going around naked to make them realise they were completely defenceless. It worked on a certain kind of disobedient slave, a slave new in training, but how would the Shinigami react to it?

"Thank you. Is there anything else?"

Helen shook her head. "No, sir. I have no more to report."

"Very well. Dismissed." Helen curtsied and then quietly left the room. Heero had to resist the urge to go upstairs and see right away. No, as much as he would like to see, it would be better not to let the slave know he was that curious about him. He would go in an hour or so, before dinner. That way the slave had some time to consider his encounter with another servant of Heero's household before being pushed back to that defensive behaviour that seemed to come to him like second nature.

* * *

What he saw when he entered his room exceeded even his best expectations. There by the wall, huddled in the thick, brown blankets was no longer a wild, uncontrollable animal, but it looked rather like a healthy, clean young man. As usual the slave looked up when he entered, but this time Heero was not met by a face obscured by tangled, dirty hair. Instead he was looking straight into the clear violet eyes that adorned a kind of face he could only describe as pretty, perhaps even beautiful.

The eyes recognised him and they instantly gave him a look of fiery resistance, but that stubborn look actually gave the boy a sense of life Heero had not recognised before. Suddenly he seemed to recognise exactly what kind of spirit this boy actually possessed.

'_I'm here and I'm alive and I'll be damned if I let the likes of you take that away from me.' _

Only then did Heero notice that the reason he could see the face so clearly was that the mass of hair was actually pulled back, save for those bangs on his forehead that looked clean now and seemed to fit him just right. Huddled in the blanket as the boy was, Heero could not exactly see what Helen had done with the rest of that hair, but she'd said she had not cut it.

"Stand up." He noticed how his voice did not have that hard edge it usually had when he spoke to people. The boy had more of an effect on him than he'd thought. Then again, looking at him now made it hard to see that same wild thing he'd read about in the Shinigami's files. It was like this was a completely different person than the one he had left behind at lunch. Only the eyes still betrayed what he was capable of.

The boy moved slowly, tightening his grip on the blankets. Ah yes, there was the matter of the boy not wearing any clothes underneath. The chains that were attached to the shackles on his wrists make the blankets fall awkwardly, but the boy had compensated for that by huddling himself in more than one blanket so that at least his front remained fully covered.

Heero stepped closer, watched by the ever-wary eyes of a cleaned-up Shinigami. The boy backed up even before Heero was within range. Defensive indeed. But the boy could go no further than the wall behind him and Heero followed until he was close enough to touch.

So young. The Shinigami was estimated to be of the same year as Heero, but he still looked like a teenager. A troubled teenager, wary and on guard, but not like the young adult Heero had expected to see. Not like the wild animal he had envisioned when he'd bought him.

Heero reached out to touch the boy, but the slave flinched and his eyes darted as if looking for an escape.

"Don't." Violet eyes turned back to him with all the hate and mistrust they could muster, but he froze. Heero had to remind himself that the hate came from a past he had no part of. He let his hand slide under one of the blankets to take hold of the slave's wrist. Again the Shinigami tried to pull away, but Heero caught the arm and held it tight.

He wasn't hurting the slave, but his grip was like iron and the boy would be hard-pressed to break free. Besides, if he tried he'd have nowhere to run. Even so, when Heero started pulling the arm down, the boy resisted. Heero said nothing, just narrowed his eyes and the resistance lessened enough for him to carry on. Slowly he pulled the arm away from the body, the one blanket sliding off the boy's shoulders, revealing half of the slave's clean body.

Heero took hold of the other wrist and did the same with this arm. That blanket fell off the shoulders as well.

The boy had a rather gangly body. Before, the black robe and the mass of hair had obstructed a clear view, but now Heero suddenly understood why this one had been trained as a whore. The tall, lank look, the full hair that looked a lot lighter now that it had been cleaned and tied back, the way those violet eyes were set in that face, it all just seemed to fit. Though the boy looked thin, weak was definitely not a word that described this youth. Both arms and legs looked healthy, skin pulled tight over a set of decent muscles.

The boy was still clutching the blankets, even though they had just fallen to the floor. Heero did nothing to remove them. Instead he let his eyes roam once more over the boy's body and then to that mass of hair that hung silently on his back.

One hand let go of the slave's wrist and reached behind the boy to that chestnut mass he knew would be there. He was surprised to meet with something more solid than he had expected.

"Turn around." He let go of the slave's other wrist and stepped back. The boy complied slowly, warily and only far enough that he could keep his eyes on his master.

Heero ignored him, instead he looked at the hair still in his hand. Helen had braided it. The braid was not tight, but with hair of this length it looked neat anyway. She was a genius like that. It must have taken her a good hour to untangle and clean that mass and she probably did not want to have to repeat such a laborious task anytime soon. Heero let the braid slide through his hand. It suited the boy. And it felt nice and firm. Would be easy to use for convincing whenever the Shinigami wasn't sure about wanting to follow orders.

Heero hung the braid over the boy's shoulder out of the way so that he could continue examining him. The boy's back was a contrast to his front, in that it was not as unmarked and smooth. He'd seen a few scars when he'd had to punish the boy, but now that he was cleaned and naked and that hair was neatly bundled in a braid he could see just how many scars the boy's back wore. Most of them looked like whip markings. It made sense to leave the scars only on the boy's back. This way the one using him could decide if he wanted to see a pretty front or a broken back.

The young lord was a little taken aback by the feeling of anger that rushed through him. It was not anger towards the boy, but rather towards whoever had given him those scars. The boy was his now and he did not like his possessions marked this way. Well, he'd just have to have them removed then. A shame it could not be done anytime soon. Removing markings such as these could only be done by magic and for that they'd have to travel to the north. The boy was nowhere near obedient enough to be taken along and Heero had no desire to ship him in a cage.

Before he realised what he was doing, his hand reached out to touch a long scar that ran down the boy's left shoulder blade. The Shinigami tensed even more and his breathing became deeper. Cautious about the change in his slave's posture, Heero ran a hand down the boy's back, feeling along several scars on his way down. He stopped just above the buttocks. He was well aware of what the boy was thinking and the slave had not done anything to earn a mindfuck.

Heero pulled back his hand and stepped away from the boy, looking him over once more. Helen had certainly done an impressive job on him. She'd made him look human, presentable. The eyes did not lie, though. The boy was by far not ready to be set loose. Much of the wild behaviour Heero had witnessed that first day was still there, repressed and it would still be quite a job for Heero to make the boy bend completely to his will. He was certain now that he did not want to break this creature. That spirit was much too valuable for that. And of course he had no desire to end up like the slave's previous owners. This one was not called Shinigami without reason.

The slave had not moved a muscle since Heero had told him to turn around. In his hands he was still clutching the blankets that he had wrapped around him earlier. The boy looked wary now, in a tired fashion. Compared to the past few weeks of boredom, chores, food and more boredom today had been eventful enough for the slave and dinnertime was coming round.

Without a word, Heero turned and left the room, debating whether or not to clothe the boy.

* * *

Dinner with his father always took long, but tonight it seemed worse than usual. The Yuy father and son had never gotten along very well. They were too much alike, Heero guessed. They were both very private people and they both expected others to obey them. Sometimes that clashed.

His father liked food. The man often had food brought in from many different regions and the nights they dined together –like a father and son were supposed to- there was usually something new for them to try. Tonight it'd had the shape of a large carrot, but it had tasted entirely different, more spicy. Heero wondered if it was even meant to be eaten like this. It tasted more like something that should be used for seasoning.

His father had seemed to enjoy it, though. What was it called again? Heero could not recall. He did not care for food the way his father did. He was just glad when dinner was over. Now it was time to feed his Shinigami.

Heero had reached a decision regarding the boy's clothing. He'd found a pair of pants that he hoped the slave would fit. Hopefully having his privates covered would allow the slave to be just a little more relaxed, for as tense as he had been this afternoon would do no good if Heero wanted to tame him. Besides, he had no intention of using the boy _that_ way –not yet anyway, not until he understood that Heero was not out to deliberately harm him. Once he understood that, Heero would consider what to do with him. He'd bought the boy for a challenge and a challenge he was proving to be. There was no denying Heero was enjoying the challenge. There was no denying he felt pride in what he had accomplished already in just two short weeks.

It was like there were two personalities residing inside the boy, two faces to see. On the one hand there was the Shinigami, the wild beast that fought madly against his oppressor, sometimes with violence, sometimes without moving, but always those eyes spoke the words the mouth knew better than to voice. Then on the other hand was the boy he had glimpsed behind the Shinigami on the night of the fireworks, the boy he could become. Helen had reported meeting that boy more fully. That meant Heero had not imagined it that night. It meant that the Shinigami act was much more a façade than anything else. And if Heero wanted to remove the boy's mask, he'd have to do so layer by layer, for if he roughly cut away the disguise, the boy would just put on a new costume instead.

Tonight's meal for the slaves was pottage made from part of beef and several vegetables. It smelled quite good. Heero had little doubt that it would taste better than the carrot-like thing he'd had with his dinner. He carried it on a tray, along with a glass of milk and the pair of pants while in his other hand he held a stack of papers. They were reports of the food stacks in the country. It was important to keep an eye on those stacks, to make sure everyone would be fed until next harvest. And of course enough food had to be dried to compensate for possible failing crops.

The Shinigami was curled up in his blankets when Heero came in and he did not respond to the sounds, did not even look up. Putting the tray down on the table the boy could reach with this chain length, he noticed the blankets moving up and down in a steady pace. The slave was asleep.

He debated for a moment whether or not to wake the boy, but decided against it. He would wake when he was hungry enough and Heero had the time. He lit the fires in his room, sat down in his comfortable chair and got to work.

It wasn't long before the slave stirred and soon a mass of brown hair poked out from under the blankets. The Shinigami sat up and looked over at the table, then towards Heero, who lowered his papers to stare back at him.

"What, no chores today?" The boy asked almost indignant.

"Your cooperation with my servant has earned you your meal." Heero replied simply. He could swear he saw the boy mouth something that could have been 'Helen', but he did not voice it. He just stood up, careful to keep his body entirely wrapped in those blankets. Only when he reached the table did he notice the black piece of clothing Heero had brought him. The slave fingered it uncertainly and glanced at Heero, who just nodded his permission.

It was an awkward scene to observe, the boy trying to put the pants on while at the same time not wanting to let go of the blankets covering him. He had his back turned to Heero, who could only see the mass of blankets fumble around and he found himself chuckling softly at the sight. The Shinigami heard and threw him a fierce scowl, but turning like that made him stumble and he only barely managed to catch himself.

This was the proud and dangerous Shinigami, so wild, so uncontrollable, so stubborn. Heero couldn't help laughing, amused by the sight. The slave growled low and mumbled a string of curses, some of which Heero could have punished him for. But instead he said in an amused tone "How about if I just don't look?" He leaned his head against the back of his chair and closed his eyes, a smile still on his lips.

The boy's curses stopped and Heero heard the quick rustling of clothes, then the sound of the chair by the table being moved. When he opened his eyes again he saw the boy still had most of his body wrapped in the blankets, but at the ankles that showed the black cloth was now visible. He shook his head and turned back to his papers, listening to the sound of the young slave eating.

The pants had been a good idea. The slave visibly relaxed after dinner, huddling only his upper body in the blankets. The pants fit him well, being tight at the top and the lower legs, but leaving more space in the upper legs. It was a pleasing sight to see. Heero allowed the slave more chain to go wash his face in the bathroom and retracted them again once the boy returned, allowing him a little space to move around.

As usual the boy moved to the edge of his freedom. Heero had seen him do that before, pacing slowly with the chains almost hanging straight while watching him. It gave him the feeling of a predator prowling near prey, except that this time the predator was bound by chains. Heero ignored him at first. He had four more pages to review and he wanted to get that finished. By the time he was done the slave had moved back to the wall and was leaning against it, still watching him.

Heero glanced at the slave and put the papers on his dresser. "You'll be pleased to know that we have enough food to keep the country fed through next winter." He said matter-of-factly. The boy glanced at the papers, looking thoughtful.

Heero had never spoken to the boy about who he was or what he did. Really, it was not important to a slave.

"Can you read?"

The boy looked up at the unexpected question, then looked away stubbornly. "No."

"Hn." Well, that would have to change. Perhaps he would hire a tutor to teach the slave once he learned to obey. A servant of any kind that couldn't read was more than a little annoying. He then noticed that in looking away the boy was staring towards the tapestry with the dragon and the knight. "Do you know the story of the Knight and the Last Dragon?"

The boy shrugged.

"It tells a heroic tale off how the last dragon was defeated and killed by the knight on the white horse." It was that tale that was the reason Heero's own horse was a white stallion. It reminded him of the story.

"Dragons aren't extinct," the slave said incredulously.

"You're right, they aren't. But they were driven away from this country a decade ago." It had been Prince Quatre's great-grandfather who had given the order and it had been Quatre's grandfather who'd started the banning of magic as well. "Do you know the title that knight received after slaying that last dragon?"

"No."

Heero frowned. "It was 'Shinigami'."

The slave's head whipped around to glare at his master. "You're lying," he hissed.

"I am not," Heero said truthfully. "Back then 'Shinigami' was something of an honorary title knights could earn by doing exceptionally great work during battles. A knight called Sir Rufus earned it after inventing a device called a catapult, which is able to hurl massive stones onto an advancing army, killing many in one blow. Sir Roderick" Heero nodded at the painting, "earned it by chasing away and slaying more than five dragons singlehandedly."

The slave looked at him as if he were seeing a madman, but he seemed to be considering the words carefully. Apparently he had never heard the origin of his own nickname. That did not come as a surprise to Heero. "This country hasn't seen war since the previous king signed the peace treaty with the North and killing men without being at war was banned. Therefore the title pretty much died out."

"Hmph, until I came along." There was both pride and resentment in those words.

"Yes," Heero answered, "Except that your nickname is used to give status to those who own you."

"Is that why I'm here?" The boy spat at him in disgust. "So you can gain status?"

"My family is the most powerful in this country next to the Royal Family itself," Heero replied calmly. "Owning you doesn't increase my standing."

"Feh." The boy crossed his arms and a dangerous glint reached his eyes. "Then what, you wanted to live dangerously instead? Get off at the thought of sleeping so close to a rumoured killer, is that it? Get high on the question whether or not you will wake up in the morning? Or do you actually want to be killed?"

The slave was just guessing. He truly had no idea why Heero had brought him here. Perhaps his confusion was due to the fact that Heero hadn't attempted to 'use' him yet. "You won't kill me." He was quite certain of that right now.

"Really?" The boy smirked, the loose bangs on his forehead covering those mad, wild eyes. "What makes you so sure, _My Lord_." The last bit was emphasised in mockery.

"Alright." Heero took out his belt knife and placed it on the table, then stepped back. "Go ahead." The boy suddenly looked up confused. He eyed his master with distrust. "Take it," Heero said. "Take a good swing at me, Shinigami." He held his hands up, as if in surrender.

Oh yes, he liked to live dangerously. He could feel his body react to the threat, like it had when he'd faced that wild bore the size of a small pony. Or when he'd accidentally walked into a wolves den while trying to escape his entourage during the hunt. Nothing made him feel more exhilarated than to face the danger head on.

The boy was clearly having a hard time trying to figure out what was going on. Would he be thinking Heero truly wanted to commit suicide? That he wanted to prove that the rumours regarding this slave were actually true? Or was he wondering what kind of trick his master would have up his sleeve? Perhaps he was just thinking Heero did this so he had another reason to beat him, or as a valid reason to take him then and there. Or maybe he was smart enough to consider where he could end up if he did take the kill. Whatever his thoughts, the boy retreated.

"I didn't think so." He'd certainly proven his point. Heero picked up the knife again and tucked it back in his belt. What he'd done had been a huge risk, but it gave him an insight into the boy he would not have gained otherwise. Now he just needed to translate what exactly this all meant.

* * *

princess/rlyblue


	6. 05: Celebration time

guest/jj: We're not going to see much about Duo's past I'm afraid. I had some of it planned, but it just didn't fit.

Warnings and thanks in previous chapters

* * *

5: Celebration time

"After you're done here, you should take the rest of the day off."

Trowa looked up at his employer in surprise. "The party is tonight."

"I know," the crown prince answered, holding his foot up so Trowa could dress it. "But I've asked Ariel to replace you."

"Ariel?" Trowa knelt down to tie the boot, allowing his hair to hide the disagreeable expression on his face. "May I ask why, Your Highness?" Ariel was a servant who'd come to court just before Trowa had been set free. She seemed to be doing a good job and had taken a special liking to the crown prince. She always tried to put in just that little bit extra when she was sent on an errand for him.

Show off.

Prince Quatre smiled down at him. Trowa could almost feel that smile burning in his neck. He avoided Quatre's eyes when he stood back up.

"She hasn't served at one yet and I think this would be a good opportunity for her to learn." Quatre stood up as well and walked to his servant, who'd just moved a little away from him. "And you've worked so hard these past weeks," he said softly, reaching out to put his hand on the taller man's shoulder. "You deserve a break, Trowa." The prince spoke in that familiar, gentle tone he used when he did not want to hurt anyone's feelings. "You have done well, but you are tiring yourself out looking after me the way you do. You will be no good to anyone if you black out or fall ill from overworking yourself."

The kind voice worked on many people, but Trowa had heard him use it just a little too often, mostly to other people. And then he'd been around later to hear Quatre's real thoughts. "Then she will be taking care of breakfast as well, Your Highness?"

"Yes," Quatre nodded, stepping back, "she should already be helping with the table."

"As you wish, Your Highness." Trowa opened the door for his prince and then bowed as Quatre headed out. With a frown, he watched the prince head down the hallway on his own. What was that all about? Why did the prince not want Trowa to serve him tonight? Was he that ashamed of him?

It had not escaped Trowa's notice that his replacement was a woman. He found it difficult to believe that the prince had just led him on all those years when he said that he truly loved him, but it was really starting to seem that way. Had the prince truly been as in love with him as he had said, or had he just been in love with the idea of someone being forced to serve him? He'd hated seeing Trowa being made to do things, or so he'd said. Could it be that it had secretly turned him on?

It was the only explanation Trowa could think of for the prince's behaviour of late. He found it hard to believe, he'd spent half his life waiting on Quatre and being given love in return. He'd thought he'd known the man, but these past weeks had been like serving a complete stranger.

Prince Quatre had said he'd worked too hard these past weeks. What kind of nonsense was that? He'd made longer days before he'd been set free and the prince knew it. Trowa was quite capable of handling himself and his stamina was something the smaller blond man had enjoyed on several occasions. Why was he offering him such a weak excuse?

What had happened that made the prince feel he could not speak the truth to him anymore?

* * *

He was early and he was carrying no food. Another experiment, Heero figured, to see if the slave would obey without the reward of food in sight. They had already established that, at this time, there was nothing to be gained for the slave by trying to kill Heero. That was why he had decided that today the boy should help him dress.

The young lord was well aware of the ever-chained slave watching him. The boy only had one blanket draped over his shoulders, covering most of his upper body. The pants Heero had provided him with took care of his lower half.

Heero had little trouble ignoring the boy, as he laid out the clothes he would need for tonight's formal.

"What's with the fancy clothes?" Ever since their conversation regarding the name 'Shinigami' the slave boy started talking a little more each day. Heero had used this as an opportunity to teach him how he should properly address the one who owned him. He therefore ignored the boy's question and sure enough, a few moments later a grudging "Master" was added.

There was not much respect in the way the boy made sure to say the word separately from the question, nor in the way he pronounced it, but it was a start. Respect, Heero knew, was something he would get soon enough, if the boy ever wanted to be allowed to leave this room.

"Dinner party." He answered shortly, pausing a moment to decide on the belt he would wear today.

"Really? What's the occasion?"

"The birth of the crown prince's first child."

He did not mind the questions. The boy would have to learn about his life eventually. So far, the talking had not yet bothered Heero much. It could be rather amusing at times. Nobody who worked for him would dare speak to him in such way. The boy was being careful, though. He knew what Heero could do with those chains that bound him. He knew he was a prisoner. He knew that at Heero's whim he could be restrained and he knew that Heero would do whatever he wanted.

Heero did not bother to tell the slave any of this. Like a wild animal brought in for training the boy had to figure it out for himself. And now he was beginning to realise that Heero would give him a chance to behave. Perhaps the slave did not know where the line was exactly, but he knew Heero would warn him if he was stepping too close.

And Heero knew the Shinigami would try to cross that line a couple more times before Heero could let him out of those chains and into a larger cage.

"Whew, a new baby for the crown," the boy said, "and now you gotta go and clap and say 'aww' to please _His Majesty_?" The title was spoken mockingly and Heero shot him a warning look.

"You know nothing of the Royal family, yet you seem to have a clear opinion." The boy had an opinion of everybody who had any kind of power and the opinion was always the same. He looked upon them with contempt. To him all those who called themselves 'owners' one way or another were all the same kind of disgusting people. He certainly didn't think Heero deserved any respect. For now the only reason he managed to behave was because he knew what the consequences would be if he failed to do so.

The boy shrugged carelessly. "What's there to know?" He said. "They tell everybody what to do, they make sure they benefit the most and they don't care who suffers for them."

"As I said," the young lord replied, "you know nothing."

"Well then, tell me."

Heero raised an eyebrow at the slave. He was not going to respond to any such order from him and even if the boy asked properly, it was none of his business in the first place. So instead he picked up the green robe he was going to wear and threw it to the slave. "You are going to help me get dressed."

The Shinigami almost let his blanket drop in surprise as he caught the robe. He looked at it quizzically for a moment, then carelessly threw it to the side. "Am not."

Looked like the Shinigami needed some convincing. Heero was already undressing, taking off his boots first and did not bother slowing down. "You are if you want to eat decent food."

"Hmph, I don't see no food here."

Heero started unbuttoning his upper clothing, saying nothing. He'd given the boy an order and he'd given him the consequence of disobedience. He was not getting into an argument with a slave. Was that rule number three of dealing with slaves or rule number four? He wasn't certain, but the first couple of rules all came down to the same thing: keep your promises, good and bad and make sure the slave knows it. By now the Shinigami should know Heero kept his word either way. If he wanted to test him on this again, then that was his price to pay.

For a moment it seemed like the Shinigami would put his word to a test, but then he gave an overdramatic sigh. "Fine," he said gruffly, picking up the robe. "If you don't even know how to dress yourself prop –Ow!"

Standing bare-chested and bare-feet, Heero was suddenly next to his slave, his hand a firm grip on the braid that hung on the boy's chest. "Think very carefully whether or not you want to finish that sentence, _slave_."

The Shinigami's grip on the robe tightened in an attempt to control himself as his eyes shot fire back at the man he was forced to call 'master'. If this were a glaring contest, the two young men would be quite evenly matched. But it was not a contest and they both knew who would draw the shorter straw if they made it one.

Finally, the slave gritted his teeth and, unable to look away by the way Heero was holding his hair, closed his eyes in defeat. Heero slowly released his grip at the boy's submission, still wary for any unexpected movements. The Shinigami was still unpredictable and prone to lashing out at the first chance, but the boy just kept his eyes closed for a few more seconds as he mentally worked round his defeat. When he opened them again, Heero caught only a flicker of pain before the eyes stood hard and stubborn. The Shinigami knew he'd reached the limit of Heero's patience and decided not to cross tonight. Smart move.

Heero had the boy help him into his robe and surcoat, breeches, stockings and boots. They worked in silence, both well aware of the tension between them. The young lord buckled his belt himself, not putting it past his slave to try something stupid in his current state. Then he told the boy to stand back and retracted the chains again until they would just allow the boy to reach the table. "Your food will be brought up."

* * *

Just outside the centre of the city stood the Winner castle. It was the largest stone building in the country, its oldest parts perhaps four hundred years old -no one seemed to know for certain. Over the years several wings had been added to house new members of the royal family. The current king had had three wives. Though they were all deceased, most of their twenty-nine daughters and the son and heir Quatre Raberba Winner lived. Several of Quatre's sisters still resided in the castle, each with their own personal entourage.

The building had five high towers looking out over the city and the countryside outside the city walls. From up there Heero's house could be glimpsed. The towers were always manned by at least one guard. The castle was separated from the city by white, smooth walls that surrounded the building, going from tower to tower. The wall was about twelve foot high and guards were placed strategically. Add to this that the capital was placed on a hill and the castle on the top of that hill it was immediately clear to anyone that this was a place where important people lived.

Of all the noble's houses outside the city, Heero's house was closest to the capital and therefore he had the shortest way to travel. Those who had to travel far had come with their own pack of servants, but the castle had enough people to take care of guests. Therefore Heero rarely let anyone accompany him when he went to see the king or the crown prince. The elder Lord Yuy complained about that sometimes, but Heero just replied that it was fashionable these days for the younger generation to take as few servants as possible. He did not know whether or not his father believed him, but Heero didn't really care. Today he travelled with no more company than his white stallion, Zero. The horse, however, was dressed richly enough to carry a king. The stable master insisted on that.

Lord Yuy was one of the last guests to arrive. When he was announced, he saw the dining hall was already quite full. His usual seat next to the Royal Family was still empty. Polite greetings and, of course, formal congratulations were made as he passed the king and prince on his way to his seat. Everyone passed the king and his son and several daughters on their way to their respective seats. And then there was King Peacecraft of Sanq, brother to Princess Relena, whose arrival had set the date of this party.

King Milliardo Peacecraft was an impressive man, tall with bright blue eyes that always seemed to be watching you. His blond hair hung to his waist, as was a fashion amongst noblemen in his country, Heero had heard. The king was young -only twenty-five- and he had won quite a few victories in tournaments of his country. He was said to be a skilled warrior with little room for mercy in battle. Though he had married off his sister to Prince Quatre, the King of Sanq had not yet taken a wife. That seemed to please the women.

On one side Heero was seated next to Princess Leia, Quatre's youngest sister. Princess Leia was one of the few females Heero could enjoy conversing with. She had an extensive knowledge of horses and preferred discussing the latest fighting tournaments over the latest fashion. She had a sense of humour to rival that of any man and though she would allow the courtesy etiquette demanded, she would not be belittled by anyone for being a woman. From all of Quatre's sisters, Leia was, by far, Heero's favourite. She was only six months older than Heero was and he suspected that both his father and hers hoped they would one day marry each other. That, however, was not something either of them had in mind.

To Heero's other side was seated Lord Sedici, a man who'd made quite a name for himself by advancing in the army. After the last peace treaty was signed, the colonel resigned and had instead taken to leading the division of the lands in the north of the kingdom. Lord Sedici was not the most pleasant of men, often quite crude in his methods, but his work was efficient and Heero, who'd had to deal with him on several occasions regarding disputes between lords on whose land was whose responsibility, had found him quite agreeable.

He greeted them both as was proper -a bow and a hand kiss for the princess, a nod of the head and a few words for the colonel- before taking his own seat. Immediately a servant dressed in the purple and gold of the Winner house rushed up to offer him wine. Sedici engaged Heero in small talk –something he was not always good at- and soon enough the room was silenced and the king stood up.

"Ladies and gentlemen." The king began his speech by thanking them all for coming and wishing them an evening of joy, for this was definitely a time of celebration. The union between his firstborn and only son and Milliardo Peacecraft's sister had produced a child. Unless a male was born from their union -or a union between Quatre and another woman if Princess Relena became infertile, should die or give him four daughters in a row, which were the conditions under which Prince Quatre could marry another like his father had, but none of that was mentioned in the speech- this child and her future husband would be the next leader in line after her father the crown prince. The party was given in her honour.

"And now, let us bring in the future of our country!" An applause erupted from the guests and Prince Quatre stood up to meet his wife carrying their child in. Princess Relena looked quite stunning in her pale blue gown, her hair put up in a complicated style that Heero suspected took the hairdresser hours to achieve. Her child was swathed in the colours of the Winner house, of course, purple and yellow.

For Heero it was the first time he saw the child. He was not very impressed with the bundle Princess Relena handed to Quatre, who proudly showed her to the gathered people. The child's hair was dark and little Katherine looked a little confused as to what was happening and not very happy to be held up that way. But soon enough her father lowered her and husband and wife stepped forward to the King.

King Winner was to be the child's first protector, of course. He gave the child his blessings in that she might grow up to be a strong young woman and, should the Gods favour it, be a wise ruler.

Had it been a boy, most likely Heero would have been the second protector, as highest ranking lord and close friend to Quatre Raberba Winner. But this one was a girl and it was quite unlikely she would ever become queen. For as long as Quatre lived, he would be trying to create a son, one way or another. And if a wife did give birth to a son, Heero was needed as protector of that child. Since he was not family, he could only be sworn to protect one living child. It was an oath that bound him as tightly as any law would.

Therefore, when the king handed his granddaughter back to her parents, the three stepped on towards king Milliardo Peacecraft, uncle of the newborn child. He was family and could therefore be sworn to more than one of his sister's children. He swore to protect Katherine with all his might and gave her his blessings. He wished she would grow up with her mother's spirit and her father's kindness and that she would make decisions that would compliment her life and the lives of those beneath her.

Another applause erupted as this concluded the ceremony. Next to Princess Leia, Princess Ariana almost squealed. "Come on, Sister. Even you must know how to appreciate a beauty such as Milliardo Peacecraft."

Still clapping, Leia snorted. "And he has such a dazzling smile." She shot Heero a glance that made him chuckle, for such a comment was definitely something one could expect only from Princess Leia. Indeed, throughout the whole ceremony, Heero had not seen the young king smile once.

* * *

After the ceremony, the food was brought in. As usual there was food in abundance. Everything that one could expect at a feast of this standard was present. Feasts hosted by the royal family always had more food and wine than could possibly be consumed by the guests. There was fresh deer and boar both properly spiced in several ways. There was a type of bread called manchet, and vegetables like onion and garlic. There was meat of pork, swan and pheasant. Several types of wine were available and a glass got filled before it was ever completely emptied.

Heero could not help but wonder how many of these feasts would have to be cancelled should most of the crops fail this year and how the nobles would to react. Fun as it would be to see some of the nobles being humbled like that, he truly hoped crops would not fail. As much as the nobles would have to cut back, they would still get plenty of food for themselves and it would be the farmers who'd be truly suffering.

After the banquet was finished, the guests were led to another room where the party would continue. Several court musicians were playing their instruments and the guests were supposed to mingle. Somewhere during the meal the newborn child had been removed from the feast and now a clutter of people -mostly women- was surrounding the prince and princess. Heero soon found himself addressed by a noble he knew only too well in name.

"Lord Yuy, I have it from reliable sources that you are the one who bought the Shinigami. Is it true?"

Muller was a minor lord, but cunning enough to get himself to a position where he mattered. He was not one of Heero's favourite people, but there were worse nobles around. Heero didn't think the short man truly had it in him to become as great as he aspired to be. He was too afraid of taking risks.

"If your sources are so trustworthy, then why need you my confirmation?" He asked, lazily sipping his wine.

The man chuckled as if Heero had said something funny. "So, how is he?"

It was quite obvious what the shorter man was implying, but Heero simply shrugged. "I don't know." He could not say he had never wondered. Ever since the boy had been cleaned up, Heero certainly seemed to understand why the slave had ended up in people's beds. The boy was quite a sight to see and that spirit could easily spark the hunger in many men. At times it sparked his.

A set of eyebrows rose up quite high. "Come now, surely you've tried him? I mean, what else is a slut like that good for?"

Heero chuckled. "Need I remind you that the men who previously owned him ended up dead? I intend not to repeat their mistakes." It was, of course, something to consider in dealing with the boy. He wanted to see if he could bend him without actually breaking him and to get the boy to bend he needed to earn some trust first. Throwing him on a bed and raping him would not help the matter.

"Of course." Muller took a moment to sip his wine before he asked, "Would you be willing to lend him out sometime?"

"Lend him out?"

"Or rent him out," Muller added. "I would pay quite a sum to have the Shinigami at my mercy for one night."

Heero figured the lord had intended that. His answer came quickly. "No." He nearly growled at the idea. The Shinigami was _his_ and _his_ alone. But judging on the thoughtful expression Muller now wore, Heero realised he may have been too obvious with that answer. Therefore he added. "No one will bed him before he comes to me. Willingly."

It suddenly seemed like the ultimate goal, to have the Shinigami come to him willingly to be used. Heero had no idea whether or not he could ever achieve it, but now that he had spoken the words, the idea of trying was certainly appealing. The boy was already proving to be a challenge he could handle simply by not being cruel. If he could have the boy willingly come to his bed, then he could truly say he had tamed the one and only Shinigami of this day and age.

Heero'd doubted the boy had a clue as to just how much fame he enjoyed. That evening a number of lords questioned him about the slave he had locked in his chambers. Only Sir Otto and Lord Noventa seemed uninterested in his latest merchandise. Several of the people he spoke to mentioned being willing to pay to spend time with the slave, all of which Heero declined. He was starting to get quite annoyed by the requests. One of them actually suggested Heero put up a show for them. That certainly set his jaw to a tight scowl. Seriously, if one more person asked him if they could use the Shinigami, he felt he could no longer be held responsible for his own actions.

Always sensitive to tense situations, Quatre showed up at the right moment and with a smile he drew him aside to a more quiet corner and asked "How are you enjoying yourself, Lord Yuy?"

"Your Highness. "Heero said tightly, nodding his head in reverence. "I suppose it is the same as always."

The prince knew exactly what that meant. He was well aware Heero was not the most patient of people and actually chuckled at the answer. "You could have expected it. Something as mysterious as the Shinigami is bound to have a few followers."

Heero raised an eyebrow. "You heard them?"

"I heard the whispers," his blond friend replied. "There are quite some speculations going around when the women are not within earshot."

Heero sighed. Honestly, how had that slave managed to gather so much attention in the first place? The owners who had died had not been that prominent. "Tell me something else please, Quatre. Where is your personal servant? Did he not stay on?"

Heero was aware of what Quatre had done the day the young man officially turned twenty-one. The prince had talked about it almost as much as he had about his wife's pregnancy whenever the slave hadn't been around. Of course it was not something the prince could just discuss with anyone as he could the pregnancy, but it had gone to a point where Heero had wondered if Prince Quatre hadn't actually been looking forward to Trowa's freedom more than he had been to the birth of his first child.

"I gave him tonight off." Quatre explained, glancing around discreetly to make sure that female who'd been serving him now was not around. "Too many here know him for what he was and he seems to be having enough trouble adjusting to his new kind of life. I did not want to make it harder on him."

"Understandable." The prince was more sensitive than Heero thought was good for a future king, but Quatre usually managed to turn that part of his personality into a strength, rather than have it leaving him exposed. Not many here would have done the same for a slave turned servant. Heero knew he wouldn't even have thought about it.

"Honestly, Heero, I have no idea what is going on with us anymore," Quatre added more quietly. "Ever since I set him free, he feels more miserable than he did before." He sounded now like he was speaking about a lover, not a servant. Heero knew those two had been more than just master and slave even though Quatre had never actually voiced the words. The prince had a wife to consider.

"Did you speak to him about it?"

"I tried." The smaller blond said with a sigh. "But I just haven't had the proper time for it, with little Katherine needing attention, Relena needing me by her side and this party needing to be arranged on top of all the usual business."

"Perhaps when her brother has gone home you'll have more time." Things should settle sooner or later.

"I just hope that by then it is not too late."

Heero said nothing. This was something the prince had to figure out for himself. Heero certainly was no expert on relationships and he was not at all the right person to give advice on relationships that needed to be kept out of the records.

"I need to know, though," Quatre began sounding suddenly a lot more like an authority, "how things are going between you and the Shinigami."

This was not entirely unexpected. If the prince had not been so busy with the aforementioned issues, Heero would have expected this question much sooner. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "He is learning."

"Learning how?" Quatre was well aware that when Heero was reluctant to answer he needed to practically drag the answers from the stubborn lord. But he also knew Heero would not refuse his prince an answer. It was for that reason he sounded more like an authority than a friend.

"He is learning to behave and obey rather than just kick out at anyone who comes near enough." It was true enough. The wildest edges seemed to have gone.

Quatre gave him a suspicious look. "What exactly are you doing to him?"

"Not much. I'm mainly teaching him that good behaviour can have positive rewards."

"And bad actions?"

Heero snorted. "You know me better than anyone does. If you think I would abuse my servants for my own pleasure..."

Quatre visibly relaxed, understanding that Heero was not doing that. "When we last spoke you called him a 'challenge'."

"He is," Heero admitted. "He is much like any wild beast that must be tamed –yes, I know he is human," He added, as Quatre had already opened his mouth to speak, "but he was never treated as one and doesn't really know how to be one."

"And you think you can teach him?"

"I believe I can get there." The prince still did not look very satisfied. "If you don't believe me, you could always come see for yourself what he is like."

"Perhaps I will do that sometime," the prince said considering.

"You still worry I will abuse him?"

Quatre smiled that sad smile Heero had seen so often before. "I just worry of what will happen to the boy once your challenge is done," he confessed softly.

At that moment Princess Relena approached them. The conversation was broken off immediately as the prince smiled up at his wife and Heero gave a small bow. "Your Highness."

The princess greeted her husband with a smile in return and then turned to Heero. "Tell me, Lord Yuy, do you dance?

* * *

rlyblue

No one will bed him before he comes to me, willingly. There's Heero's newfound objective. But will he ever manage to get there? And if he does, how will he reach that goal? Ideas? I love hearing from you, even if it's just a 'hi, nice chapter' or a 'still reading'.


	7. 06: Two sides to every story

Sorry I'm a day late updating this story. We have holidays here. Next week I hope to be on schedule again.

Guest, JJ: We're not going to see much about Duo's past in this part, just minor bits and pieces. Heero an Duo their relationship is nowhere near where Duo would feel like disclosing it and Heero's no psychiatrist. At this point he doesn't care much. He believes he knows what he needs to know. But Duo's not stolen royalty. Sorry.

XXXTITANIA SCARLETXXX: Trust is indeed a major issue in this story. But Heero mentioned nothing about love...

NekoA1: Wufei will be introduced in a couple of chapters.

* * *

6: Two sides to every story

Nothing comes from nothing. The past week he had been unable to get that sentence out of his head. It sounded so meaningless and yet it meant so much. Nothing comes from nothing. If you want something, then you must give something else in return.

Out of boredom he had picked up the book that Prince Quatre had given him when he'd set him free and started reading. For some reason, Trowa now found it hard to let go of what he had read. Nothing comes from nothing.

He only vaguely remembered the event that had happened a few years back. The thing that had prompted Quatre to give him this book had happened so fast, Trowa wasn't even sure he remembered it right. He could remember the location. It was one of the smaller courtyards, the one with the benches and the green flowers that grew along the walls. They had just been passing through, taking a shortcut when there was a shout and Trowa had looked up just as something came crashing down, going straight for his master. Trowa remembered feeling more than thinking that this was bad. If that thing killed his master, then it would mean chaos. If the precious crown prince died then everything would change, for the country, for Trowa.

He remembered wanting as well. He remembered wanting to prevent that, he remembered not wanting to lose this master, who'd so easily earned his respect. He remembered not wanting to return to the uncertainty of where he would end up next and who would be providing his next meal.

And then the falling stone had crashed to the floor a few feet away from Prince Quatre, a few feet away from where it should have landed. And then Trowa's hand was outstretched and pointing at it.

The prince had turned to him, to see if he was alright and alert blue eyes turned to confusion. And then Trowa had fallen to his knees, suddenly completely exhausted, as if he had hurled that large piece away from them all by himself.

Surely Trowa had just miscalculated the path of that falling stone.

That thoughtful expression Quatre wore for most of that day, Trowa had almost forgotten it. He'd seen to it that Trowa was given time to rest. The weakness he'd shown was blamed on the shock of watching his master almost getting killed, but Trowa was not that weak of heart and the prince had known it. Obviously he'd known more than he'd let on.

Magic was forbidden here. The king believed it could only lead to war and violence and he wanted none of that. But in the north it was widely practised. And Trowa's ancestors had been brought to this country from the north. They had been prisoners of war and for that they had been turned into slaves. Trowa had been born in slavery, but he knew that he was only a second generation.

Nothing comes from nothing. Could it be he had used magic without knowing it? The book mentioned that it was rare, but not impossible for an untrained individual to make use of it unconsciously when in dire need. Could it be that he had actually been the one to hurl the stone aside? Could it be that by not specifying the counter price, that he had paid for it with his energy like the book said would happen?

Nothing comes from nothing. It applied to so many things, not only to the use of magic. Energy seemed to be the common price when nothing else was around. Laundry didn't get clean if you did nothing to clean it, food didn't appear on the table if you did not put it there and preparing food, even carrying it over cost energy. Your body didn't move if you did not use your muscles and your muscles would not keep working if you did not feed them energy. If magic couldn't get its energy from something else, it would get its energy from you. And if you did not know how to give, then it would instead just take it all.

Could it be Trowa possessed magic?

If he did, then he was definitely in danger. If something like this ever happened again, somewhere where there were witnesses, Trowa could be sentenced to death, even if he had not meant to use it at all. Possessing magic was not a crime, nor was possessing magical items or even using them, but using magic that came from within was outlawed very strongly.

The prince had taken quite a risk if he had suspected it all this time. He had never said a word about it to anyone, for as far as Trowa could tell. He wasn't certain what the penalty was for harbouring a magician, but he was quite certain even a crown prince could get in trouble for that.

Trowa fingered the book that had started him wondering. Did he dare read more? Did he want to discover more of this mysterious thing that might not even be there or was he too afraid of what he might find out?

Trowa was not the kind of man to make decisions in great haste. He was often called silent and indecisive, but he just didn't like the idea of making a rash decision without having all the facts gathered and all the scenarios well thought over. He'd been thinking for a week now though and he still did not know how to answer that question. He supposed he'd just have to think some more before he would act one way or the other.

* * *

The Shinigami was learning how to behave quite nicely. The reference of 'master' now came almost immediately after the sentence when he addressed Heero. He did not need to say it at every sentence if he showed enough reverence, which was beginning to get there as well. Perhaps soon Heero could let the boy out of those chains for a little while. Not out of sight, just out of the chain. He was already giving the slave enough chain to move around his room quite freely, if he behaved. So far the boy had not taken to trashing anything yet, nor had he tried to attack Heero while the lord sat working or reading in his comfortable chair. That was a good sign. That did not mean Heero could just let his guard down, though. The slave was far from ready to be set loose.

Heero was just heading up to get some papers he'd left on his dresser last night, but was surprised when he entered his bed chamber to find the chains holding the slave leading towards the bathroom. Oh right, he'd instructed Helen to come up to wash the boy. He'd allowed servants in his room again as well to gather the laundry and such, though he left the cleaning jobs for the Shinigami to earn his food.

The door to the bathroom couldn't close because of the chains attached to the slave's collar and shackles and steam was slowly moving out of the bathroom, a scent of flowers –Heero had no idea what kind of flowers- accompanying it. From the voices inside he gathered that neither had heard him come in.

"Do you like how I braided your hair last time?" Heero heard Helen ask and the Shinigami answered.

"Yeah, it's so much more convenient." Heero paused in his search for the papers. That had sounded so completely different from when the boy spoke to Heero. The voice seemed much lighter, pleasant. Looks like he enjoyed being bathed.

"What does your master think of it?" As far as Heero knew the boy was still not aware of his name. And Helen seemed to be obeying the order not to mention it.

"Dunno, really." Water splashed and Heero imagined the boy moving to another position. "When he first saw it, that day you cleaned me up, he just ogled me and then left without saying a word."

Heero frowned at that. It was not how he remembered the scene where he'd first seen the boy cleaned up. He remembered being quite impressed with the results. He remembered letting that braid run through his hand approvingly. Had he spoken? He did not remember.

"Sounds like him indeed," Helen was already answering "He is a very private person. Much like his father. You should forgive him for that. He is just very dedicated to his work and rarely allows distractions."

"Humph, he likes pulling my hair for a distraction." This was said with disapproval, yet the boy still managed to make it sound light-hearted. His quarrel was with his master, not with the servant, Heero reckoned. Still, it was strange hearing him sound so different. Like this, the boy sounded nothing like a dangerous animal the Shinigami was supposed to be. It was like he was a completely different person, and yet he knew it was the same. Like two faces that belonged together, neither really conveying the full truth.

The Shinigami that Heero had seen mainly in the beginning had never seemed completely right, less so once the boy got cleaned up. But even now as he was conversing with the servant, something seemed off as well. He seemed a little too easy going. It made Heero wonder who this boy was going to be if he could manage to balance the two faces out. Who would come out once the spirit found comfort?

"How come you won't let me cut it?" Helen's question seemed to come out of nowhere, but Heero found that he wondered about the answer as well.

"That's kind of a long story," the boy answered casually.

"I've got the time."

For a long moment Heero thought the slave was never going to answer. He found that he was holding his breath, not wanting to miss a word if the boy did speak up. But when he spoke, he said instead, "Hey, can you show me how to braid it myself?"

Heero sighed quietly. Looks like the boy was indeed not as comfortable around the servant as he appeared yet. Or perhaps he figured Helen would report what was being said to Heero. Either way, the conversation now shifted towards braids and Heero needed to get back to work. He quickly grabbed the papers he needed and headed back out, to the office near the library downstairs.

* * *

Heero never mentioned the conversation he had overheard, not to Helen nor to the slave. There was no reason to, really. If he'd wanted them to know he'd heard, or if he'd wanted them to know he was there in the first place, he could have just entered the bathroom. He did muse on the conversation he'd overheard, though.

Helen was right about one thing; both he and his father were dedicated to their work. They had not gained their respective positions just by sucking up to the king. Sucking up was something everyone could do. They had proven they could handle their work. They had proven they could keep the nobles in their places and they had to keep proving that if they wanted to keep their positions. Of course, it helped being friendly with the royal family, but there was more to keeping their positions than just that. Heero didn't slack and he did not accept it of those he worked with.

It was a couple of days later when Heero brought the Shinigami his lunch, that something was wrong. Putting the plate down, Heero examined the coloured spot on the wall that had not been there before. The boy had already done his chore and went about eating quietly. It gave Heero a clear view of the slave's hand and that confirmed his suspicion. That red spot on the wall was blood. It had come from the boy's knuckles.

"What happened?"

"Huh?" The Shinigami looked up, his injured hand pausing halfway to his mouth. He looked from Heero to his hand and then shrugged, taking a bite from his bread. "Just tripped and fell. No big deal."

No big deal? "You're injured." He must have fallen pretty hard if he'd managed to get himself bleeding.

"It'll heal." He sounded almost challenging when he said that.

Heero frowned. The Shinigami was not the type to trip over his own two feet. He was much too graceful for that. While the boy ate, Heero watched for signs of other injuries, but he saw none. The boy stood and walked normally indicating his legs were fine. He did not so much as wince when moving his arms and Heero saw nothing else under the blanket. He must have been lucky to have only hurt those knuckles.

He waited for the boy to finish his meal, then ordered him to clean the wall. The blood was fresh and should come off easily. In the meantime he went into his sitting room to fetch something he could use to bandage the slave's hand. When cleaning was finished, he retracted the chains some and stepped closer to the boy, who drew back suspiciously. Perhaps he was thinking Heero was going to punish him. Heero had already explained more than once that if he thought punishment was due, the boy would ultimately not escape it.

Tripping and falling, however, happened accidentally. "I'm going to bandage that." He nodded at the hand. The boy relaxed somewhat and, after shifting the blanket around his shoulders so that he could hold it in one hand, even slightly held out his injured hand for Heero to reach.

Examining it proved that the injury was clean. It should heal well enough in a day or so. Heero wrapped the cloth he'd found around the knuckles and let go of the hand, which dropped immediately. "Be more careful." He simply told his slave. "And next time you dirty my wall, clean it immediately." He let it go with a definite threat of an 'or else' and gathered the plate. He was just about to reach the door, though, when he realised a familiar weight in his pocket was missing. Could it be...

He couldn't let the boy know he'd taken him by surprise, couldn't allow the slave to feel a full victory. He had to appear calm. Therefore he spoke before he checked.

"By the way."

Only then did his hand go up to his pocket. Confirmed. The boy had used their closeness to steal the crystal! Damn him!

"That won't work for you." He turned slowly to face the boy, well aware that he was scowling hard. The boy had dropped the blanket and moved as far away from Heero as the short chains would allow. He was eying him dangerously, wary. Sure enough, the crystal was right there in his injured hand.

Now it made sense. He had not tripped and fallen. He'd hurt his hand on purpose. He'd slammed it into the wall to make it bleed and he'd left the spot there for Heero to see, hoping it would draw him in close enough that he could do some pick pocketing. Clever. That sure taught Heero not to underestimate the Shinigami so easily.

The boy clearly expected trouble. Oh, he'd get trouble. Heero's eyes promised him that. But first he needed that crystal back intact. If it broke, they would both be in real trouble. It was custom made for those chains and Heero wasn't sure a replacement was even possible. He'd been told to be very careful with it.

"Go ahead," he said therefore. "Try it."

The boy eyed him suspiciously. His hands fingered the crystal, but those eyes never really left Heero's, trying to anticipate when he would move. The chains did nothing, they just hung there, no matter how the boy touched the crystal.

"It was made to work only for me." The Shinigami frowned suspiciously, but still said nothing, almost crouching in his corner. He held the crystal close to his chest.

It was clear the boy was not going to give it up so easily. Heero relaxed a little more. "I don't know what will happen if it breaks," he gave a small moment to let the threat sink in, "but I do know it won't release you." The boy barely moved, still watching him with distrust.

"It was difficult enough finding that one." Heero added. "Getting a replacement would take weeks and all that time you won't be able to move more than you can now."

The slave wouldn't budge and Heero was not in the mood to wrestle him for it. "Fine," he said, standing up straighter. He'd let the boy play with it. It was the safer option, as he knew the crystal wouldn't work for the slave. "If it's not on the table when I come up with dinner..." Another threat he'd leave like that. He was much too angry to be making solid promises now. And the annoying thing was that he was more angry with himself for not noticing the boy taking it than he was with the slave for trying. It was in the nature of a beast to try to escape. After a last good warning glance, he turned and left the room.

* * *

She saw one of the garden boys gape at her as she made her way upstairs. These stairs only led to Master Heero's chambers and though the ban had been lifted, nobody had yet gone in there besides Miss Maxwell. She didn't want to go up there, but it wasn't really her choice. She'd been told to collect Master Heero's laundry and slaves did as they were told or they faced the consequences.

Miss Maxwell had probably seen the fear in her eyes, for she had said that he was not so bad. She could know. She'd seen him. She was the only one in the household who'd seen him beside Master Heero and perhaps the other Master Yuy as well. But Hilde wasn't so sure if she should just believe it. Miss Maxwell was the kind of woman who would tell a white lie if that helped you feel better.

Even so, Hilde decided to take it as assurance while she headed into his room.

What kind of a name was Shinigami anyway? Was it even really his name? Some said it was a nickname, but everyone knew he'd been given it because of all the bloody stories that surrounded him.

She entered the room quietly, hoping that perhaps the new slave would be asleep and would not notice her. Alas, no such luck. The shadowy figure clearly moved when he saw her enter the bedroom from the sitting room. She'd come through the servant's doors there, of course.

The Shinigami sat up and smiled at her, but it was not a very pleasant grin. To her he looked something like a maniac. She quickly found the pile of laundry and, trying to steer clear of him as much as possible, hurried over there.

"You're scared of me?" Came the soft inquiry

She nearly jumped when he spoke. She glanced at him nervously, but said nothing, just went about her job.

"What's your name?" He asked then, calmly. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt ya, you know. Seriously, I'm not."

He sounded so genuine. He even sounded like he was trying to be nice. Laundry in her hands, she slowly turned to look at him again. That weird grin had gone from his face and he was now frowning at her. He looked so... odd. She'd heard the stories of where he came from and she could understand why they'd put him in a whorehouse.

Hilde was tall for a woman and thin, but she had dark hair, almost no boobs and a boyish look about her that she emphasised by keeping her hair short. She knew very well what they did at those places and she didn't want to end up there. Most free women who looked like her would hate themselves for the way they looked, but she did not. It was what kept her safe from those wanting eyes men could get when they saw a pretty thing they wanted to play with.

This one was quite different. Though he was clearly a man from the shape of his chest and about as tall as she was –she guessed, for he was still sitting on the floor- he had a feminine look about him and she could see why some would want to use someone like him. With that long hair and fair face, perhaps they could even imagine he was a girl if they did not look too closely. Men were weird that way.

"What's your name?" The boy asked again, gently.

"Hilde." Her voice was more steady than she had expected.

"Well Hilde, nice to meet you." The slave spoke. "Hey, did you see what the master gave me?" He held up his hand and something was in it, but Hilde could not quite see what it was. "Do you know if he does that more often? He's never given me anything before."

Hilde edged closer, curious, clutching the laundry to her chest, until she could see. In the palm of his hand lay what looked to be a large gem or a crystal, light purple and shining even though no specific light fell on it. It was quite pretty and unlike anything Hilde had seen before.

She shook her head. "I don't know if Master Heero's ever given anyone something like that." She said. "What is it?"

The boy shrugged. "Dunno." He said, looking more closely at it. "I was hoping you knew."

"Sorry." She started turning away, hands still full of laundry.

"Hey, wait a minute. Please, don't go yet. I don't get to see many people."

She figured that was true. Master Heero was always busy and Miss Maxwell as well. Neither would be spending much time up here, she figured. "I don't have much time." She said apologetically, nodding to the laundry.

"Well, just a second then." The boy answered. "Have another look at the crystal. Maybe you'll remember seeing something like it." He was now holding it out for her to take.

Figuring it couldn't hurt to humour him –it must be lonely up here all alone for what, nearly two months now- she shifted the load of laundry so she could take the crystal. That didn't help her recognise it any better, though. She fingered it for a moment and then looked up. Strangely enough, the boy was staring at the chains that held his shackles, almost as if he expected something to happen. But nothing happened.

"Here, I really have to go now." She held out the crystal again. He took it, but he looked disappointed about something. "It looks pretty, though. He must be pleased with you if he gave you something like that." She said, trying to cheer him up.

"Yeah, I'll bet." It sounded like he did not mean it.

Hilde decided she didn't want to know.

* * *

When Heero came up with dinner that evening he found that the crystal was indeed on the table and the boy sitting on the floor, away from it. The slave had not had the amount of chain he'd needed to change the bed. Therefore, Heero put the food out of his range and walked over to the table, taking the crystal. He gave him more chain and stood back.

"Get to work."

The boy knew he was in trouble for taking the crystal and for not giving it back immediately. He just didn't know how much trouble he was in. Neither of them spoke. For Heero that was not strange, but for the boy not to make even one clever remark was a clear sign that he was uncomfortable. He glanced at his master every now and then, but Heero could not read through that guarded look on his face.

When the bed was changed, Heero handed him his meal and nodded to the wall. The boy understood. He retreated and Heero retracted the chains until he could not move more than a couple of inches from the wall.

He took his time eating. Sometimes the boy ate as fast as he could, shoving everything down as if afraid it would be taken from him. Now he was deliberately being slow at it, apparently trying to delay his punishment some more. When he finished and put the plate on the table, which he could only barely reach now, Heero stepped forward.

"Kneel."

The boy threw him an insolent look, but obeyed nevertheless. He sank to his knees gracefully, arms by his side, looking up unimpressed.

That was not a proper way for a slave to kneel. "Sit back." The boy understood and lowered his ass to his heels.

"Hands behind your back." Heero said. The boy barely moved, so Heero touched the crystal. The shackles on the wrists flew together and the slave grunted, but kept looking at him cheekily. "Keep them there." Heero said and released the force that drew the shackles together. If the boy was surprised by this, he did not show it. He just stayed still on his knees.

"Eyes to the floor." That the boy did not do. Instead his scowl became more fierce, defiant. Heero stepped forward and grabbed the boy's scalp and forced his head to look down. The slave hunched over and when Heero stepped back the boy did not look up again.

Heero eyed him for a moment. Something seemed off. He didn't look like the Shinigami, even if Heero pictured that glare he was certain adorned the boy's face. This pose did not really capture any of the slave's spirit. He moved to stand behind the slave and pulled his shoulders back. When the boy used that as a cue to look up, Heero simply pushed the head back to face the floor.

That was better. It was submissive but the straight shoulders showed enough spirit. He didn't need to see this one cowering. "Remember this position," he said, then ordered "Stand up."

Without delay the slave obeyed. He raised his head again to look at his master, but one warning glare from Heero had him lower his gaze again, scowling.

"Kneel." The boy almost had it right. Heero corrected him, none too gently and had him stand up again, kneel again and stand up again.

So he did know how to obey orders. Good. "Kneel."

This time when the boy knelt, Heero did not tell him to stand up again. Instead he moved to stand right before the slave, making sure the Shinigami could see his feet.

"You stole from me." He said coldly. "And the item you stole from me was taken in an attempt to escape."

"That's not true." Came the immediate denial.

Heero frowned. He'd not asked a question, he'd made a statement. He'd not expected the boy to speak up. "What was that?" His voice didn't lose the cold tone.

"I didn't take it to escape, Master."

"Hn?" Really? "Then why did you take it, slave?"

"I just..." The boy looked tense, but he didn't move.

"Well?" Heero asked impatiently.

"I just wanted out for a moment."

Heero raised an eyebrow, aware the boy could not see. "Out?"

"Yeah."

"You're in them because you can't be trusted." Heero answered calmly. "You've proven that today."

The boy made a disagreeing sound and his head turned slightly sideways. "It's not like you give me any trust."

"Trust isn't given, it is earned."

Heero was getting impatient with the boy's remarks, but the slave either didn't notice or didn't care. "How the hell am I supposed to earn it if you don't fucking give me a chance?!"

"Enough!" Heero's hand struck across the slave's cheek hard enough to leave a mark. The slave had obviously expected it, because he did not make a sound, just scowled and kept his head averted.

The boy wanted a chance to earn his trust? Then he should lose those edges of defiance he held onto and start obeying a little better. Heero did not believe for a moment the boy hadn't had escape in mind. The whole thing had been planned out too carefully for that. He'd had plenty of opportunities to steal the crystal before if he could pickpocket it that easily. Instead he'd bided his time until Heero eased up with him, not always forcing him back to the wall before leaving the room.

No, this had not been planned just so he could go on a casual stroll throughout the mansion. Heero was certain of that. "Tonight you will not move unless I say so. And then only as I say."

The boy did not move. Good. Heero left him kneeling on the floor for now and moved to his adjoining chambers. When he came back a few minutes later the boy was still in the same kneeling position. Kneeling for a length of time was not pleasant. Slaves were often made to do it and he was certain this boy had been made to kneel for some time by some of his previous masters, but these past two months he had hardly made him kneel at all.

That evening Heero sat in his comfortable chair reading a book. Every so many pages he would tell the boy to change position, switching only between kneeling and standing. He kept this up until he decided it was time for bed. Only then did he allow the boy to move on his own again, giving him just enough chain to lie down for sleep.

* * *

It was late that night, or perhaps early in the morning when Lord Heero was woken by strange sounds. He heard frantic movement coming from the slave and strange mumbling accompanied it. Heero lit a candle to see.

The blankets were moving as the slave was thrashing. He seemed to be asleep though, caught in a nightmare. Heero did nothing for a moment, just listened and looked. The Shinigami didn't mumble anything distinct, but he seemed to be fighting something. Grumbling in annoyance, Heero got out of bed to wake him. He placed the candle on the table, satisfied that the boy was not positioned to knock it over and then knelt by the boy, trying to shake him awake.

The slave woke with a start, tried to lash outat Heero, but found his movement blocked by the chain attached to the shackle on his wrist. In those eyes Heero saw again that wild, mad look that he associated with Shinigami as the boy glared at him, panting. It took the boy a couple of seconds to calm down enough to realise where he was and who Heero was. The Shinigami look disappeared and the slave boy looked away, curling up almost as if embarrassed.

Only then did Heero notice that both of the boy's wrists were bleeding. Must have happened while he struggled against those shackles in his nightmare, trying to get away from whatever he'd been dreaming of.

It had to be taken care of. Heero left the boy on the floor and got up. After a few moments he returned, kneeling at the boy's back, bandages in one hand, the crystal in the other. He'd have to release the wrists to bandage them. One at the time should do. He grabbed one of the boy's arms and held it tight enough to restrain him if he tried something, but not tight enough to hurt if he cooperated. Then, after taking a deep breath, he ordered the crystal to release the shackle.

The metal opened up in a crack that had not been visible before and fell to the floor with a clang. The boy tried to turn, surprised. Heero merely drew the injured wrist closer to him and examined it. The injury wasn't bad, the bleeding already stopped. It wouldn't need much time to heal if the boy didn't try and pull them on purpose. Quietly, Heero started bandaging it. The slave watched him warily, but he did not struggle. Instead he looked more and more tired by the minute, although that could also just be the light from the candle.

When he finished bandaging one wrist, Heero put the shackle back on the wrist and it closed over the bandages at his will. Then he took hold of the other wrist and did the same as with the first. When he was done, he shackled it again, pulled the discarded blanket back over the boy's slim form and stood up. Before he climbed back in his own bed, he could've sworn he'd heard a quiet "Thank you." coming from the boy's direction. It could have just been the wind, though.

* * *

princess/rlyblue

So, now that the Shinigami has an understanding of how heero's control works, Heero believes it's time for Duo to be trained. A small step in the right direction. Do you think Duo should have fought harder? He's far from a well-trained slave yet. And do you like this other side of Duo I tried to show in this chapter? Does it fit his character of do you think he's too OOC? That's always a fine line to walk when writing an AU, where the characters have different backgrounds from the cannon stories. I love you guys letting me know what you think!


	8. 07: Confrontation

I'm glad you guys think the characters aren't OOC. I tried hard to keep them that way, but that's not always easy in a setting where one has so much power over the other while in the series they are much more equal. I also hope you think I'm managing to keep Trowa and Quatre IC, even though this chapter shows a little bit more of the direction I'm taking with those two.

Warnings and thanks in earlier chapters.

Specific warning for this chapter: violence.

* * *

7: Confrontation

The Yuy mansion was one of the biggest in the country. Having said that, it was still nowhere near the size the of the Winner castle. Only if you counted the land that went with it, could it become equal in size.

The sprawling estate was located just outside the city. Though the city could be seen from the main house, it was not disturbed by the hustle and bustle that was always going on in the capital. That was one reason Trowa liked visiting the Yuy mansion. Another reason was that the prince enjoyed the company of the younger Yuy lord.

The young nobleman and his friend, the heir to the throne were quite different from each other. When one was smiling, the other would be scowling. Where one was trying to be understood, the other expected to be obeyed, to be trusted that he knew the right thing to do. Where one sought out people, the other tried to avoid it. Prince Quatre's wing had very few servant's hallways. He enjoyed being passed by people while he walked about. Lord Yuy preferred not to see a soul when he had to move from one room to another. The prince usually sought out family to dine with, while the young lord regularly complained about having to eat the strange foods his father had imported.

They were two completely different men, but they shared a common goal. They both wished for this country to be at peace and to run smoothly. They were both concerned with its people's well-being and neither liked seeing another person suffer.

It was the first time since his release from slavery that Trowa accompanied his former master to the Yuy estate. The young royal wanted to see the Shinigami this morning. Lately, Trowa hadn't been involved much in the prince's business, but he had a pretty good idea why he'd been asked to come along now. His employer would want his opinion on the slave. Having been a slave himself, Trowa had a somewhat unique perspective.

They were seated in Lord Yuy's personal sitting chamber. It was not exactly a room fit to receive any formal guests in due to its location and its simple furnishing, but Trowa understood that the Shinigami was chained in Heero's bedroom and he had no intention of leading the slave out. The last time Trowa had been in this room was years ago, when the prince and the young lord were just teenagers and they wanted a less formal setting to talk. The room had changed somewhat since then. The couch had been replaced by a sturdier one and the furniture had moved around to fit the room differently. Trowa liked the change. It suited the lord.

Lord Yuy knew that Trowa had been set free, but had not said a word about it. In essence, Trowa's presence now was the same as it would have been had he been a slave, except that now he'd chosen to be with the prince. His job was still the same and though the lord would allow his input if Quatre asked for it –occasionally he'd even commented on something Trowa had said- he doubted that the noble was going to ask for his opinion now that he was free.

Drinks had been served and Trowa leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, one eye nearly obscured by the brown bangs stubbornly facing forward. He was here to observe today. It was something he was good at, standing back and observing quietly, allowing his mind to store what he witnessed to be processed in more detail later. It was one reason the prince asked him along in situations such as these.

Heero opened the doors that led to his bedroom and put a hand in his pocket. The sound of chains moving was heard. "In here." The young noble ordered and Trowa watched the door intently, keeping one eye covered to hide just how much attention he was paying. The Shinigami was notorious for his violent behaviour and he did not mean to set him off.

The first thing Trowa noticed was that, aside from the collar and shackles, the slave only wore a pair of dark pants. The chest was bare, though he had a blanket casually thrown over his shoulders. Brown hair was pulled back and apparently it was braided. Every now and then the tip of the braid would swish into sight. It must reach nearly to the slave's buttocks!

The Shinigami was about Heero's height, but Trowa could see that he was much more slender, giving him a delicate appearance as he walked. One look at those deep purple eyes, though, said that he was anything but fragile. They spotted Quatre, spotted him as well and then turned to Lord Yuy suspiciously.

"What's this?" The Shinigami's voice was surprisingly clear. Apparently he had not been forbidden to use his voice these past few months, or he would have sounded hoarse. Heero did not answer, though. He knew his friend well enough to know that Quatre preferred taking the lead, so instead he stood back, giving the floor to the prince.

Quatre got to his feet and smiled pleasantly at the Shinigami. Trowa tensed when the prince stepped closer, not at all trusting that indignant look in the slave's eyes. He wasn't one to judge quickly, but this one looked unlike any man Trowa had ever seen, slave or free. He had a dangerous air about him confirming the rumours Trowa had heard and he saw the boy had not yet moved to stretch his chains.

"I'm Quatre." Only his first name, not the family name that added a lot of weight. A tactical move. He wanted to know what the slave was really like, not what he could act like. The prince sounded gentle, perhaps a bit too much. It was almost as if he were speaking to an injured person rather than a perfectly capable slave with a dangerous reputation. "What's your name?"

The Shinigami eyed the prince warily for a moment before speaking. "What? Wanna know what you gotta cry out when you're up there usin' me?"

Lord Yuy's eye twitched, but before he could move Quatre held up his hand to stop him. Or perhaps it was meant to silence the slave, it could be interpreted as both. Considering that this was Quatre Raberba Winner, it probably was both. "I would just like to know your name."

"Feh." The Shinigami crossed his arms, smirking although he did not look amused at all. "Like he'd do me the honour of a name," he answered, sounding disgusted.

"Duo."

"Huh?" The word had been spoken softly, but it rang clear through the room. It apparently caught the slave off-guard. He'd dropped his hand and was now blinking at his master in a surprise he was unable to hide. A tactical move from Lord Yuy to throw his slave off guard, keep him confused, or a word spoken aloud by accident? The lord's frown seemed to indicate the latter.

"Duo, huh?" Quatre smiled, pleased. "It's nice to meet you, Duo."

"Hey, wait a minute!" The newly named slave was completely ignoring the prince, now turning to his master. "I never agreed to no name, here!"

Heero looked up at his possession –that was what the look he was giving the slave- completely composed and did not dignify the outburst with an answer.

"Then what name would you choose?" It was Prince Quatre who said this and it got the Shinigami's attention back to him.

"Isn't Shinigami good enough for you," he bit in his direction. Trowa's eyes narrowed. Before, the slave had been acting defiant. Now he was angry. Now they really needed to watch out.

"Why would you want to be called the God of Death?" Prince Quatre's confusion sounded honest. "I don't believe you honestly like killing." The prince had a strong aversion towards killing. This was exactly the kind of question Trowa doubted Lord Yuy would even think of asking. He learned the names of people who worked for him, people he worked with, but he was never good at small talk because he never bothered to figure out what people liked and disliked in their personal time.

For perhaps the third time in this conversation the Shinigami seemed to be caught off-guard. Looks like the prince was not like anything he'd expected.

"I ain't the one who made up the name," he answered stubbornly.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" The slave's eyes narrowed dangerously, but the prince spoke up quickly. "No, never mind. I couldn't expect you to answer honestly if you had anyway." The former slave guessed that the slave's reaction to the question was enough for Quatre to have an answer either way, but Trowa could not see it.

"What happened to your wrists?" Bandages were visible from under the shackles. They were not coloured red, so the injury must either be old or not very serious, but the prince spoke with concern anyway.

"Nothing." It sounded defiant, like so many of the slave's words. Quatre glanced at Heero who merely shrugged. It really wasn't much then.

"Alright then," Quatre said after a pause. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Duo." The prince nodded and turned away, indicating that this meeting was over.

"Leaving so soon?" The slave almost sneered. "What, am I not good enough for ya?"

Quatre turned around, but before he could speak, Lord Yuy had reached in his pocket again and the slave was jerked back several steps by the chains pulling on his shackles and collar. The Shinigami glared at his master, but the master glared back equally until finally the slave snorted and turned around, moving back to what seemed to be his place by the wall.

Lord Yuy closed the door between this room and the bed chamber.

"You didn't have to do that." Prince Quatre spoke quietly, as though upset by Heero's actions. He probably just didn't want the Shinigami –Duo- to overhear if he were listening.

"He was disrespectful during the whole thing," Lord Yuy replied. "It was the least he deserved."

Quatre shook his head. "He thought I was here to have sex with him."

"That is not his business." The lord's meaning was clear. If he wanted to lend him to someone for sex, then that was Heero's business. The boy just had to comply. "Shall we relocate?"

They moved to the library, where the fireplace was already lit for them by the ever-observant butler. A servant came in quickly enough, carrying glasses and a bottle of wine. When the servant left, Heero said "So, have you decided for yourself whether or not I abuse him enough?"

Quatre ignored the question. It was perhaps his ability to let comments like that slide that had kept their friendship going. Lord Yuy had not been pleased learning that Quatre would be coming by to have a look at the Shinigami himself.

"Beyond that hard exterior is really a kind soul." The blond spoke, swirling his wine. "I can see the challenge you mentioned."

"Hn." Lord Yuy's usual response. It could either mean that he agreed or that he disagreed. The prince always seemed to know the difference.

"He's obviously been through a lot, or he wouldn't be so defensive." Defensive through offence was indeed the way Trowa would describe him. "If you can break through that... Why did you name him Duo?" Quatre asked, steering the subject in another direction.

Heero shrugged. "It just came to mind." Seeing the prince calmly watching him, he elaborated. "Most of the time he acts like the Shinigami they claim he is, but I've seen almost the complete opposite as well."

"Really?"

"Those injuries on his wrists," Lord Yuy explained, "he was having a nightmare."

Prince Quatre looked thoughtful. "Like two personalities, a duo making one person."

Heero did not even have to nod.

"You never called him that before?" Quatre asked

Heero shrugged. "I hadn't decided yet."

"And now?"

"I don't know." Heero answered honestly. "I've played around with some names in my head, but just when I think one suits him best, he does something which makes me wonder." Despite the lord's earlier behaviour in front of the slave, he really did seem to care in some form. Trowa wasn't sure if the noble had realised it yet, but the fact that he was taking so long to get him a suitable name said enough. If he hadn't found anything in the slave that caught his interest, he wouldn't have bothered trying to find a fitting name.

"I think 'Duo' suits him," Quatre said. "And if you can get him to really trust you, the two of you will certainly make for an interesting duo."

Heero frowned at that, thinking. "I fear you coming here may have undone some of the trust I was beginning to earn."

"Should I not have come?" Quatre asked, sipping his wine.

"No, it's fine. I suppose he'll have to get used to being around other people sooner or later."

"Well, then I'd say you find a way to use this encounter to gain more of his trust, rather than lose it."

* * *

"So, what do you think?" One of the good things about being set free was that Trowa got to ride a horse now. The prince had taught him when he was younger and Trowa had caught on rather quickly, but as he grew older and was expected to behave more like a slave than a servant or friend he'd not been allowed to ride anymore. That was save those few times Quatre had found spare time to take him outside alone.

The nation was a peaceful one. It had an army of well-trained knights and it closely monitored its borders, but since the last peace treaty was signed things had been quite calm. The king disapproved of his only son going out with only a single person to protect him, but Quatre simply decided that if he was not able to ride out on his own, then the country wasn't truly at peace. Trowa actually agreed with the king, but he was wise enough not to mention it.

"I think he is dangerous," Trowa answered the question. As expected, now that they were alone the prince wanted his opinion. It was not a wonder they were riding home so slowly.

"That is only because he is so used to having to defend himself," The prince reasoned. "He's not a bad person in his soul." The prince was quite familiar with Trowa and Heero. Apparently it had been enough to filter out their emotions and focus just on those of the Shinigami. Otherwise he wouldn't sound so confident.

"It won't be easy for Lord Yuy."

"Those two have a long road ahead of them." Quatre smiled. "But in a way I am relieved about that. Heero sees Duo as a challenge and he never forfeits a challenge. But to win this one, he'll have to get to know Duo a lot better. That will take time"

"They already seem to be getting quite used to each other."

Quatre chuckled. "You noticed that as well?" He asked. "I swear, they could have whole conversations just conveying glances, scowls and glares."

"So it appears," Trowa said in silent amusement.

"And my guess is," Quatre put in, "by the time Heero decides he's finished the challenge he won't be able to let go of Duo anymore. If Heero can genuinely win his trust, then I doubt Duo will be anything like what we witnessed today."

Trowa agreed with that. It was not difficult to see that his behaviour was dominated by his fear of being so dependant on others, so out of control. "Probably not."

"When we first met, you were not like you are now either." That was an abrupt change of subject. An attempt to throw him off guard? No, Quatre should know it only got his guard up.

"I was never that bad." Trowa had not been abused like the Shinigami had been.

"True," the prince answered. "But it still took you a while to come to trust me."

"Slaves learn to obey," the taller man simply answered. "The only thing we trust is that punishment will follow disobedience."

He could see Quatre wince at the word 'we'. Even after two months it was difficult not to think of slaves as an 'us'. It had been twenty-one years of his life.

"I regretted having to punish you." The prince's voice sounded remorseful and Trowa knew it was true. "You were trying me out and I couldn't seem to win your trust. Until I punished you."

"It's a strange concept." Trowa mused. "But sometimes it's easier to work for a master you know will punish you for certain things than for one where you don't know what to expect because he's being too kind."

"I guess it compares to working with children." Quatre answered quietly. "Once they know there are boundaries, once they know that stepping over them has consequences, they will become much more agreeable than when they believe they can do as they wish."

"A lot of people would compare it to training wild animals rather than children." Trowa pointed out.

"Then a lot of people are wrong." There was conviction in Quatre's voice as well as sadness. "Slaves are human beings. They need love as much as anyone else does." That was indeed the prince's main point of view regarding slaves. He tried to tell so many people, but so few were willing to listen.

"Is that why you asked Lord Yuy not to punish the boy for his behaviour?"

Quatre nodded. "Heero is not an evil master. He sets boundaries and he doesn't abuse his power. But he does have a temper and he was never very good at showing affection."

"So you show it for him." Trowa guessed.

"Actually..." Quatre confessed, almost embarrassed, "I just didn't want Duo to hate me."

Always the kind, caring person. Quatre was far from brittle, could put up a hard front if he needed to do business, but he always did it because he just loved life so much.

"You hated me, in the beginning," Quatre said when Trowa didn't answer.

"I was unsure of you," Trowa answered back.

"And now?" There it was, the question Trowa had been dreading. How did he feel about him now?

"I don't hate you." He knew that was not what the prince meant.

His companion wasn't about to let it go that easily. "But you are unsure of me?"

"More like... the whole situation feels surreal." It was an honest answer and a vague one. Already it seemed like the air between them was thickening.

"I thought you just needed some time to adjust to being free." The prince said quietly. "But you seem to be drawing away from me further and further the longer it's been."

He was drawing away? It seemed to Trowa to be the other way around. It was the prince who'd started giving much more attention to his wife, to his daughter, to other women. Trowa just quietly observed as always and he was simply not invited in.

"Something is bothering you." It was not a question. "Please, Trowa, tell me."

"There isn't anything to tell," the tall servant answered evasively, still not really wanting to have this conversation.

"Trowa." Quatre sounded annoyed now. That was hard to achieve. It must be really bothering him then.

"I just mean to say, it's normal. You just had a daughter. You want to spend time with her. And with your wife. You still need to produce a son."

"You're..." Quatre blinked, stopping his horse as the realisation hit him. "You're jealous."

Yes. "No." Trowa lied outright. He knew that would do no good, but he couldn't think quickly enough of something else to say that wasn't a lie but could be interpreted as one.

"You are." Many people would be laughing now, but Prince Quatre seemed to be regarding it carefully. "You fear I don't want you anymore?" He said slowly, working it round in his head. "But it has more to do with your freedom than with my daughter, doesn't it?" Trowa remained silent. "That's the only way this makes sense."

Was it? Or perhaps the blond hadn't realised yet that he was starting to gain interest in women. It sure explained why he had chosen that girl Ariel, of all people, to serve him at a high profile event like the princess' show day.

"Oh, Trowa," Quatre sighed. "I love my wife and I adore my daughter. But you and I, we used to be on an entirely different level. I thought you understood that."

He had. Back when everything was normal, he had understood. But now he no longer did.

"Come to me tonight." The prince ordered and as Trowa looked up, he could see the city walls were already almost upon them. "I will make time. This is not something that should be left unresolved."

* * *

Heero had watched the slave eat lunch without punishing him for his behaviour and now he was coming in with dinner, again without the mention of consequences for the boy's actions. The Shinigami expected punishment. It had been clear from his quiet manner. And now he was getting impatient about it. Being quiet just never seemed to suit the boy for long.

"What? No punishment, _Heero_?" Heero's eyes narrowed immediately and he hesitated before putting the plate down. The name was spoken with as much disrespect the boy could muster and that did not sit well with the young lord, not well at all. He took a step towards the slave and reached out. The boy tried to avoid his hand by moving away, but it did little good as Heero just grabbed the chain holding the collar instead and pulled it, hard.

A bolt of pain shot through the slave, enough to force him to his knees and cry out. The moment Heero let go of the chain, the pain stopped, but the slave was left panting. Heero grabbed hold of the boy's braid and pulled his head back, forcing the Shinigami to look at him. "What did you call me?" He almost growled.

"I'm sorry, Master!" The slave –Duo- breathed quickly. Heero tightened his grip for a moment, watching as the slave's eyes grew wide with pain, then he let him go.

"Eat."

More subdued now –the pain the collar applied always seemed to leave him more submissive than anything else Heero used as punishment- Heero mused that was because he could not see it and therefore could not avoid the pain. Duo took a moment to gather himself before standing up and moving over to the food. He did not eat yet, though.

"Master..." He said tentatively. "Are you going to punish me?"

"Eat." Heero ordered again. The boy complied silently. Therefore, Heero chose to answer. "He requested that I abstain."

"Ah, really?" He sounded surprised and only a little of the usual arrogance was present. "Why's that, Master?"

"Because," Heero said, "you were left under the false pretence that he was here to have sex with you."

"Sounds like a poor reason," the slave huffed.

"Like I said, it was his request that I didn't," Heero answered. "But if you prefer."

"No way," the boy answered quickly, rubbing his sore head absent-mindedly.

"I didn't think so."

The boy finished his meal and moved back to his blankets. Heero had already taken a seat in his chair and he was reading through some papers when the boy spoke tentatively. "Master?"

"Yes." Heero didn't look up.

"Were you serious this morning?" The slave asked. "About my name, I mean."

"Perhaps."

The boy did not seem very happy with that answer. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Heero looked up from his papers scowling. "I do not need to explain myself to you."

"Right, cuz I'm just a slave," The boy answered bitterly, looking away from his master to show he wasn't challenging him personally. "It just would have been nice to know, ya know, before you said it to someone else."

Heero sighed and shifted in his chair. "It just came out," he admitted grudgingly. "I haven't settled on anything yet."

"Oh. So you're not going to name me yet?"

"Duo!" Heero nearly growled, testing the name. "Be quiet!"

* * *

Two months and that wretched Shinigami was still up in Lord Yuy's bedroom. Why the lord had not been killed in his sleep yet was a mystery to Geoffrey. He'd seen the wild thing as it was brought in, had guided the men who'd brought it here to the lord's chambers and had seen to it that the slave was properly restrained. That little time he'd spent with the wild slave was enough for Geoffrey to determine that it was indeed nothing but vermin the lord kept up there. Dangerous vermin, of the kind that would stab you in the back the first real chance it got. He'd listened to the screams the slave had given out when it'd tried to pull himself free and had been punished by those shackles. It was the least of punishment he deserved. There was no doubt in the butler's mind that the Shinigami had killed all those who had died owning him. Why nobody had been able to find proof was beyond him.

But it was Lord Yuy's wish that the boy was here and Geoffrey was just a butler. He rarely disagreed with anything his master did, but this was just outrageous stupidity. And now he was asked to retrieve some documents from the lord's bedroom, because Heero Yuy had left them after working from that room last night. Again. He spent far too much time around a slave that should have been put down years ago.

The slave looked up the moment Geoffrey entered and he could see those wild eyes watching him. He could feel them burning in his back when he turned to the bed stand. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. The slave was making him more than a little uncomfortable.

"What are you doing here?" He sounded indignant, as if he was above the butler. Geoffrey snorted, but did not bother answering. The slave should not have spoken in the first place. It didn't even know its place. What had Lord Yuy been doing with it these past two months?

"You a mute or something?" The slave sounded even more cocky. The butler glanced its way, making sure he was looking none too kindly. Then he continued looking for the papers. They were obviously not on the night stand. The dresser then. He glanced warily at the slave as he turned towards the dresser. The slave was returning his look indignantly. Oh, how it needed a good whipping to show it its place.

"Think you're too good for me, huh? I said, why are you here?!" There was a demand in that voice and the creature was crouching low now. Even with the hair decently out of the way, it looked wild and uncontrolled. If only the master would let him work on this one instead. He knew how it should be handled. He'd have the slave on its knees and begging in no time, just where it belonged

The papers were in the second drawer. Geoffrey got them out and pushed the drawer closed, checking to make sure these were the right ones. When he turned to leave the room, however, one of the papers slipped and fell to the floor, right in front of the Shinigami.

The slave glanced down at the piece of paper, then eyed the butler warily. It wasn't moving to touch it, it just remained frozen, scowling, eyes defiantly on the other occupant in the room. The slave thought to be that much better, but the slave was also the one chained to the wall and unable to leave this room. Geoffrey had no desire to let this one see he feared it. Therefore Geoffrey chose to meet his stare with a smirk as he leaned down to reach for the paper.

He only took his eyes off the slave for a second to see where his hand was grabbing, but the next thing he knew something slammed into him hard, throwing him down on his back. The slave! With a growl the younger one was on top of him. He tried to push the boy off, but he was not so young himself anymore and this one had a strength he would never have expected from anyone so slim.

"Think you can come here and use me, huh?!" The slave was shouting as he raised his fist and brought it down on the butler's face. "Think you can just fuck some dangerous, pretty ass and then brag about it?!" Another fist came down. "I saw you watching!" A fist collided with his side. "I know your kind!" Geoffrey grunted as he managed to block the next blow with his arm, but it still hurt quite a lot. "I know that look!"

The butler tried to push himself back. The boy was not very heavy and he managed to move a little, but the slave grabbed his collar instead and lifted his head off the floor. "Oh, you're not getting off so easily," he hissed dangerously, raising another arm. "I'm not some fucking toy and I won't be used by a scumbag like you!"

The eyes showed a rage way beyond comprehension and Geoffrey prepared for another blow to his head, but it never came. Instead the boy's weight was roughly removed and the butler fell back to the floor. He could hear the sound of chains being retracted, along with a grunt from the slave. He heard Lord Yuy's voice, angry, but he couldn't understand what was being said. His ears numbed the sound and before his eyes the world seemed to be growing dizzy. He saw the swaying form of his master kneeling next to him, looking down at him. "My... Lord." He tried to speak, but Lord Yuy silenced him. "Lay still." He managed to make out. Then other vague sounds were heard and two more faces appeared in his blurry view. They seemed vaguely familiar, but Geoffrey couldn't remember right now. No wait, they were servants in the Yuy house.

"Can you sit up?" One of the servants asked and he sounded a little less vague now. Geoffrey nodded and tried to push himself up. He tried to scowl when he felt strong hands helping him, but without those hands he would probably have fallen right back down.

That wretched slave, attacking him out of the blue! He tried to look in the direction the wild beast was chained to the wall, but he could not make out more than a silhouette. "That's what ya get for trying to fuck with the Shinigami!" The slave spat at him, though Geoffrey could see that all its efforts to break free were in vain. He'd been restrained like he should have been all along.

He felt a pair of strong hands help him stand up and he had to lean heavily on them. Lord Yuy was looking at him. He was close enough that the butler could now make out his face. "Get him to his room and then fetch the doctor." He ordered. The shoulders he was leaning on gently started manoeuvring him around, steering him out of the room.

* * *

princess/rlyblue

Oh boy, what did Duo do now? And how is Heero going to react to this? What do you guys think a Heero from the middle ages should or would do? I'd love to hear your suggestions!


	9. 08: Misperception

Regular warnings and thanks in earlier chapters

Warnings for this chapter: Punishment, torture, bad language, mention of rape

* * *

8: Misperception

Was is real magic or was it just illusions? Trowa could see it was the latter. It was his day off and there was a circus in town. He'd bought a ticket to go watch the show, knowing that there was someone said to be performing magic tricks. Trowa wanted to see for himself.

The man was fast, but not fast enough for Trowa's carefully observing eyes. Those pieces of rope that suddenly were put together, that was just a new, longer piece of rope. Those rings that seemed solid had that one spot where they were not so solid after all and could be taken apart. And those pigeons that suddenly appeared in the cage had been under the table all along, in a compartment hidden by mirrors.

This was not magic, this was fake. Of course he'd suspected as much. One would have to be pretty foolish to be using real magic and announcing it the way they did when in a country where magic was forbidden, seen as something malevolent. Trowa had grown up knowing it was just that –evil- but he'd come to doubt it. If magic were so evil, then why was there always a payment to be made for its use? That just seemed fair to Trowa. And if magic was so wicked, then why didn't he feel corrupt? He'd used magic once –he was sure of it now- and he was still alive.

And then came the lions. They were said to be ferocious beasts, originating from way down south, but Trowa didn't see a lot of violence in them. Actually they seemed rather docile. The rest of the crowd did not seem to notice, but it was obvious these beasts were being well-fed and that the man guiding them –what was he called again?- had trained them well. One lion even got up to perform its trick before the man ever cracked his whip.

This was a ruse. A complete waste of time. There was no magic to be found here. There was just tricks and deceit. A waste of some perfectly good copper coins. He contemplated that as he headed back to the castle, to his home.

He was just about to turn a right when he saw something shimmer in a shopping window that caught his eye. When he stopped to look at the object, he could see that what had shimmered appeared to be a flute. Trowa frowned. It was not made of wood as flutes usually were, instead this one seemed to be made from some sort of metal. Must be why it had shimmered; it had reflected the sun.

Although... The shop window was covered in shadow. How could the flute have reflected a sun that was hidden behind the building? Trowa looked around to see if something else could have reflected the sun back, but he saw nothing that would have caused it. Must have been a trick of the eye then.

He was about to start back to the castle when he glanced the price tag. So little for an instrument? From what he'd seen instruments were usually expensive as they were used and cherished by bards and gleemen to make money with them. Bards and gleemen, if they were any good, could make quite some coin in one night.

Trowa had no experience with any sort of instrument. He thought the flute seemed to be in good shape, but he really couldn't tell. Still, for so few coppers it wouldn't be much of a waste if the thing turned out to be useless. He was never one for buying trinkets and this surely seemed like a trinket to him, but somehow he liked this thing. No harm having a closer look, right?

A few minutes later, Trowa left the shop, flute packed carefully in the metal case that came with it and a few sheets of beginner's music.

* * *

The Shinigami's eyes never brought so much honour to the nickname as they did now. They looked wild, incomprehensive, incoherent. Those eyes clearly stated that there was no way the slave was going to listen to anything he said at this point. He just seemed mad with rage.

Heero touched the crystal and immediately the slave screamed. He'd not wanted to use the crystal this way, had not wanted to make the slave even more wary of him with the knowledge that he could easily hurt him from any distance, but the boy was just not in a state where he would be listening. Besides, he deserved every last bit of pain he would get.

Heero touched the crystal again and the boy was given a few seconds to breathe. Then Heero had the pain start up again. The slave was restrained tightly to the wall, chains fully retracted. He could see every time he touched the crystal to administer pain that the Shinigami's body wanted to curl up, the muscles looking for a way to do so, but the collar and shackles held him tightly up straight. Another few seconds for the boy to breathe and for Heero to judge him, then more pain was given.

The boy's cries was the least he could give his butler. Heero was certain they could be heard throughout his entire wing, perhaps even all the way to his father's side of the house. Knowing his butler, he'd want to know that the slave got what he deserved. Knowing his butler, he'd want the slave to be in so much pain, it would nearly kill him. Another pause to breathe for the boy until Heero had the pain start up again.

The young lord watched and listened as his slave cried out, not showing any sign of emotion. That wild look had to be beaten out of him before he could even try to make sense of why the boy had attacked the butler. And make sense it must, if he ever wanted to tame the wild creature he'd thought he'd already managed to bury. He'd been so wrong. The Shinigami was obviously still very much present. The Shinigami had attempted to kill a man. The Shinigami must be controlled at all cost.

Heero allowed for another pause and watched the boy slump in his bindings. He was getting there. Allowing the slave a few breaths was all he could give before he made the pain start up again. The Shinigami threw his head back, letting out another cry. He wasn't even trying to hold back anymore. Heero could see the tears starting to form at the eyes

The next pause came and the boy slumped again. Heero was about to bring back pain, when the boy spoke. "Please." He sounded weak, tired, in a great deal of pain. "No more. Please."

Had the butler begged for him to stop as well? Would he have listened if the man had? He'd retreated so far back into his Shinigami side that Heero doubted he would have even heard. He shocked the boy one more time, watching as that body struggled to try and relieve some of that unavoidable pain, listened as that voice shouted itself hoarse. Finally, he let the pain disappear.

"Master. Please. No more," the boy panted, his voice sounding raw. "Please. Stop."

Heero walked over to the slumped form, hanging from chains in the wall and put a finger under the slave's chin, making him look up. The boy flinched at the touch, but had no strength to resist. He let his head be raised and when he opened his eyes, Heero was glaring back at him. The boy was in too much pain to look annoyed, but he was lucid. That was what Heero needed. But right now he was too angry to even begin questioning the boy, so instead he let go of the head and turned round, walking away. He allowed for one more round of pain before he left the room. Later, he promised himself. He would deal with the boy later, when he was not so angry he could keep administering the pain to the slave until it killed him.

* * *

It was about an hour later that Lord Heero Yuy felt he had enough control to return to the slave he'd left in pain, but uninjured. The slave was slumped in his bonds, his body sagged, his eyes closed, but Heero saw he was not asleep. The boy was concentrating on his breathing. Whether that was because of the pain or for another reason Heero could not determine yet.

He closed the door behind him and crossed his arms, looking the boy over. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" His quiet voice sounded dangerous. He was still quite angry, but he'd managed to calm down enough to trust himself not to kill the slave.

"He was gonna attack me." The boy's voice sounded remarkably strong and by the disgust Heero understood what exactly he meant with 'attack'.

Heero frowned. Geoffrey had been sent to get the papers and Geoffrey had a wife and children. Geoffrey did not care for men like that and he knew the consequences of trying something that stupid against Lord Yuy's explicit orders. Heero knew his butler as well as he knew his best friend and therefore he could be certain the servant had not attempted to rape the boy. "Then why are there no marks on you?"

"Didn't give him chance, did I?" He lifted his head and, with a sickening feeling, Heero noticed that the boy was actually smirking. So he put his hand in his pocket again. Just one second of pain was given, but it was enough to wipe that triumphant smile off the slave's face.

"You attacked him without cause," he told him. And really, that it was without cause didn't even matter. By law a slave was not allowed to put a hand on a free person, not even in self-defence. Just like no free person was allowed to attack the king, not even in self-defence.

"You think I don't know the face? You think I don't recognise that look?" The boy was scowling now, which was much better than the smile. Despite the meaning of his words, he sounded careful. He knew who was in charge and he knew that if Heero willed it, he would be in quite some intense pain.

"Apparently not." Heero stepped closer to his restrained slave. He stopped only when their bodies were barely an inch apart and looked him in the eyes. "He wasn't going to rape you." The Shinigami refused to believe him.

"The injuries you caused were not fatal," Heero said, taking a step back. "He will recover. You are very lucky." The butler would be given strict bed rest for perhaps as much as two weeks, but he would most likely not suffer any permanent damage. "You've had part one of your punishment. The next part will begin tomorrow. It will last ten days."

The look the slave gave him was guarded and the boy was tense all over, but he did not speak.

"For ten days, each day you will be beaten. Ten hits will be the start." The boy's eyes narrowed slightly, but Heero found the look still quite unreadable. Then again, he wasn't finished with announcing the punishment yet. "Each day you will ask me to punish you and you will do so before dinner."

"What," the boy protested, but Heero went on.

"Failing to remind me will result in an additional ten each following day and ten extra for the day you forgot." It was an unusual punishment. Heero was well aware of that. If he refused to ask tomorrow, he would be getting twenty hits each remaining day plus thirty tomorrow. If the boy never decided to give in, he could end up with a hundred and twenty on the last day. That was certainly going to damage him.

On the other hand, if the boy decided to submit to him from the beginning, there would be no more than a hundred hits spread out over ten days. That would be an easy punishment to handle. The catch in this punishment lay not in the pain the boy would receive, but in having to submit willingly. It was a sense of pride the boy had to overcome if he wanted to come out with his body in tact.

"No way," the boy breathed. He seemed to be forming an idea of what the punishment would be like. Good. Let him muse. Heero did not respond.

The young lord was quite proud of this set-up. He could have just had the boy kneeling and give him a good whipping, but the slave's back had enough scars as it was and he really didn't think he'd earn the boy's trust by shedding blood. If he ever wanted to tame the Shinigami, he needed his trust. His proposed method forced the boy to trust him at least enough to remind him that he was due to be given pain. Asking for the pain would give him less than if he didn't ask. By now the slave should know Heero would keep to his word for the good and the bad parts of it. Perhaps he would allow his defensive walls to lower just a little more than and he would give Heero just that little bit of trust.

And of course, whether or not he decided to submit willing, the punishment was so unusual he would be sure to remember it in the future.

* * *

On day one of the second part of punishment, the slave did not remind his master. Heero watched him eat breakfast and lunch without the boy mentioning it and when he brought dinner, the boy just ate it. Heero had not expected the boy to give in on day one. There was much too much spirit for that. He didn't think it would be good to punish the boy right after dinner. The food might just come back up again. So instead he settled in his chair and started reading.

"Alright," he said, after an hour or so. "It's time for your punishment." Heero took the paddle and walked over to sit on the edge of his bed, then gave the boy enough chain to reach him –he'd been keeping the chain quite short since the attack. "Come here."

The slave stood up warily and walked over, stopping in front of him. "Lower your pants and settle over my knees." With a tight face, the slave obeyed. He had known this would be coming and by now he knew that having to lower his pants did not mean he was going to be used.

"Hands behind your back." The slave attempted to look up at his master, but Heero put a hand between the shoulder blades, preventing the slave from turning enough to meet his eyes. Slowly, a little awkward, the boy managed to get his hands behind his back. Heero locked them by the shackles using the crystal and put that braid over the slave's shoulder to keep it out of the way.

"Because you did not remind me, there will be thirty today and twenty in the following days," he told his slave. "You will count and when I am finished, you will apologise." The Shinigami said nothing, but merely braced himself for what was to come.

Heero raised the paddle and brought it down on the boy's buttocks with a smack. The boy remained silent. "If I lose count, I may have to start over again." Heero landed a second smack.

"Two," the boy croaked.

He had to commend the boy for how he was handling his punishment. The pants that were at his heels and the hands tied behind his back would have made it hard for him to fidget, but he did not even try. Heero hoped that was just a sign that the boy was beginning to trust that Heero wouldn't overdo it, although it seemed more likely the slave just figured there was no escaping this anyway so he might as well give in. Or perhaps it was just another form of defiance. By the time Heero reached twenty, the boy had made no other sound than the continuous counting. When he reached twenty-seven, only small grunts indicated pain. And he had to be feeling pain. Heero wasn't holding back. That wouldn't be fair.

When he reached thirty, he put the paddle down and touched the red buttocks. They felt warm, but nowhere near broken. Good. "Apologise."

"No."

Heero picked up the paddle and hit the buttocks again. "Apologise."

"I'm sorry." Smart boy. He knew Heero would have continued until he gave in. He didn't sound sorry, but feelings couldn't be pushed. Looks like the Shinigami needed some more time to realise he'd been wrong.

Heero helped the boy sit back up on his knees and then made the slave look at him. "He wasn't going to rape you." The same words he had said yesterday. The same disbelief that met him.

He unlocked the shackles that held the slave's hands together behind his back and allowed him to return to his spot by the wall. For today punishment was over.

* * *

The second day proceeded much as the first. The slave did not remind Heero of his punishment, which set today's amount to forty and the future days' amount to thirty. The only difference was that he apologised immediately when Heero told him to. Heero again let him know that the butler had not tried to rape him and again let him go.

Dinner time on day three came and went without a mention of the punishment. That meant fifty for today and forty for the remaining days. Fifty was quite a lot and the boy's butt had not yet healed completely from the previous treatment. Heero had chosen the switch today, rather than the paddle. For a while he feared he would be breaking skin, but the boy's behind held, possible thanks to Heero broadening the range he was hitting. He had to be told to, but the boy apologised again immediately and again did not seem to believe the butler wasn't going to rape him.

The butler was heeding the doctor's advice and staying in bed, mainly coaxed to do so by his wife. Heero was sure the man would rather see the slave that attacked him to be lying on the floor, bloodied, broken. Geoffrey knew how to keep grudges. But Geoffrey also knew how to remain professional and Heero did not think he was going to cause problems. He was well aware that the Shinigami belonged to Heero and that it was therefore Heero's duty to see to his punishment and no-one else's. And he knew that Heero believed that once a punishment was over, the crime had been paid for.

It was day four now and dinner time again. Heero put the plate down and allowed the slave to go about his designated chore. When he was finished, Heero retracted the chain enough that the boy could reach his plate but no further. The slave seemed to hesitate. For a long time. Then finally he sighed.

"I'm supposed to remind you of my punishment." Again there was little submission in his voice, but Heero had a pretty good idea what it had taken the boy to voice those words. four days and three reminders of where he was heading was not just nothing. He accepted the reminder, sat down on the bed and gave the boy more chain. At the last moment he decided to push the slave just a little further.

"Hand me the switch." The boy tensed, his hands balling to fists and he gritted his teeth. To hand his master the very weapon that was going to be used to cause him pain had to be humiliating. But he obeyed eventually, grabbing the stick that he hated so much and handed it to his master. Then he lowered his pants and put his hands behind his back. Heero locked them and the slave draped himself over his master's knees quietly.

"You're at forty." Heero told him, examining the dark pink buttocks. "You will apologise when it is done. Count."

The slave counted. The first hiss of pain already came around ten. Apparently he'd decided he'd been humiliated so much he wasn't even going to try anymore. When the forty were done –the skin was still whole to Heero's relief, although quite red- the slave apologised, still not sounding like he meant it.

That morning, Heero had listed to Duo exactly what injuries he had caused. The boy had just looked at him with eyes that said 'What else did you expect from someone they call Shinigami?' but the slave had been smart enough not to voice it.

Heero helped him sit back on his knees. Before he could open his mouth though, the boy spoke.

"I know, I know. He didn't mean to rape me, right?" There was no belief in those words, though.

"Yes."

"Man, how long are you gonna repeat that to me?"

"Until you believe it," Heero simply answered.

"Huh, that'll be forever then."

Heero frowned. "I told you, if I decide to give anyone permission to use you in any way, you will know."

"Didn't say he had your permission or not," the slave retorted.

"My butler will not go against my orders," Heero told him. "Besides, he's not into boys or men."

He stood up and was about to leave when the slave protested. "Hey, am I supposed to eat like this or what?"

Oh. Right. He'd almost forgotten. Stupid. He casually unlocked the shackles from each other and let the boy go about his dinner, not retracting the chains any further.

* * *

On the eighth day, the slave made a mistake.

For four days he'd reminded Heero that punishment was due before even touching his dinner plate. He'd handed Heero the weapon and then submitted to the punishment and apologised. And every day the apology sounded just a little more honest. Heero couldn't be certain the boy was not just acting, but he saw no reason why he would. He wasn't being punished for not being sincere enough.

On the eighth day Heero brought dinner as usual. On the eighth day Duo –Heero had noticed that every now and then that name seemed to slip into place in his mind- went about his chores. On the eighth day the slave then moved to his meal and on the eighth day, he took a bite.

Heero said nothing, just watched quietly. The slave was just about to lift a second bite to his mouth when he paused. From where Heero was standing he could see one eye widening in horror. He kept still as the Shinigami turned to him, slowly. It took a moment for his mouth to work.

"Master..." He said and swallowed. "I forgot."

Heero made sure his face betrayed no emotion. "Forgot what?"

"Punishment," he said quietly. "Reminding."

"You did," Heero answered. "Do you wish to take it now or after you finish dinner?" That was the only choice he would offer.

The slave dropped his fork and bowed his head. Heero sat down on the edge of the bed. "Hand me the switch."

Duo obeyed quietly, taking the switch and then lowering his pants. He brought his hands behind his back to have them bound there and draped himself over his master's knees.

"You didn't remind me in time," Heero began.

"Master, please. I forgot!" Heero believed him, believed he'd really forgotten and not meant to disobey, but it did not matter. If he let this go now then perhaps next time the Shinigami would think an apology and some begging could get him out of punishment again. He regretted it, but this had to be done.

"Because you did not remind me, there will be sixty today and-"

"No Master, please!" the slave begged and started to struggle. "I forgot, honestly! I won't forget again! Just, not so much, please Master, I'm sorry! I just-"

"Enough!" Heero silenced the boy by forcing his head down, which cost little effort. The boy shut up, but Heero could feel his body tremble. "Because you did not remind me there will be sixty today and fifty in the remaining days," he told his slave firmly, letting the hand travel from the boy's neck to his back. "You will count and when I am finished, you can apologise."

He brought the switch down swiftly on the boy's behind. Sixty hits. That was a lot. These past days when it had been forty, the skin had held, but it was already looking bruised from the previous treatments.

The skin broke just before fifty. Heero paused to look at it, but only for a moment. He wanted to get this over with. The boy's counting slowed, though, as if he needed more and more time to catch his breath after each hit.

When the sixty was done and the slave apologised, he tried to get up, get away from Heero, but Heero held him in place. "You're bleeding." He told the slave. "Hold still." He took off the shirt he was wearing and carefully brought it to the boy's behind. Was that a whimper? Heero looked down at the trembling boy draped over his knees uncomfortably and was shocked to see that the boy's trembles came because he was crying. He hadn't thought the boy could cry.

Heero mused on this as he carefully cleaned the boy's behind. It seemed like he was getting through to him. He didn't think this punishment would break the boy, but it certainly subdued him quite a bit. First the begging and now the crying. He hoped it wasn't going to bite him in the ass once the boy healed from his ten days of punishment. He didn't need the slave to start fighting him even harder. But how was he going to keep him from retaliating? Heero would have to think about that.

He helped the slave back up on his knees and put a hand at the boy's shoulder. He was avoiding placing his ass on his feet and in this case that was fine. There were two more days of punishment, each with fifty stroked. Each punishment would draw blood.

The boy had his eyes averted and closed tight. He didn't want to show the tears, but Heero had seen them already. "Look at me." He made sure his voice left no room for disobedience. Duo complied slowly. "My butler was not going to rape you."

The boy just looked at him, not much emotion present. With a sigh, Heero unlocked the hands and got up. He dressed himself in a clean shirt and started for the door. "Don't forget to finish your dinner."

* * *

Lord Yuy was right about one thing. The last two days the boy bled after punishment, whether he used the paddle or the switch. On the last day he already started bleeding at twenty-four, which was barely halfway through the punishment. It was a good thing this was the last day, because Heero didn't want to risk leaving any scars. Scars were ugly and this boy already had his share of them.

"Stay still," he ordered the slave after the last blow, which was immediately followed by an apology. He'd asked Helen to get him some ointment for the slave's behind, something that could numb the pain and she had brought him some. Now that the last of the punishment was over, Heero felt it could be applied.

Duo's ass was bright red and felt hot under Heero's touch. The ointment was cool, though. The slave hissed when the ointment came in contact with the raw skin, but he obeyed and held still. He acted almost like a broken toy. That annoyed Heero.

He finished applying the salve and let the slave sit up. Again he cupped the boy's chin, making him look up and he said "My butler was not going to rape you."

The boy sighed and pulled his head out of Heero's grip. "I know." The response was quiet and the only reason Heero had picked up the words was because they were so close. But he seemed to be telling the truth.

After ten days of punishment, the boy had finally sounded honest when he said he was sorry and now he sounded honest about believing the man had not tried to harm him. Either he was a really good actor or he'd come to believe Heero's words.

"Your punishment is over now," Heero said, releasing the boy's wrists and standing up. Duo stood up and pulled up his pants –very carefully- then started for the table, but Heero grabbed his arm. He turned to look back, surprised and slightly suspicious.

"There's one more thing you should know," Heero said, looking deep into those questioning violet eyes. "You're mine." He was well aware of the possessive tone he used, well aware that it was the reason for the slave to take a step back, but he held him in place. "And so long as you are, you will not have to kill anyone again."

It was clear the slave was very unsure of how to interpret those words. Heero let go of the boy who drew away quickly, hurrying to turn his back under the pretence of eating.

* * *

princess/rlyblue

So what do you think of this chapter? Do you think Heero handled it adequately or do you think he was too harsh? Should he have listened more to Duo, should he have been more lenient or was he right in the way he was trying to get it through to Duo that Geoffrey had no intention whatsoever to rape him and he had no business attacking him? I really wonder since both my beta readers came to me with questions after this chapter. So please let me know your thoughts! Even though the story is pretty much fully written, I can still make some changes to explain how I envision this world and Heero's mind works.

Until next week!


	10. 09 Trial and error

I'm glad you agree with the punishing method I used and how it was implemented, though some of you were wondering about Geoffrey. I added a bit extra information about the relationship between him and Heero, hopefully that explains why Heero is certain Geoffrey was not going to attack his posession.

Vye: I'm glad I was able to help you take your mind off things. I try to update every friday, so here's the next chapter

Warnings, thanks anda disclaimer can be found in previous chapters

* * *

9: Trial and error

"That sounds nice."

Surprised by the interruption, Trowa looked at the door to his room to see that none other than the crown prince himself was standing there, watching him intently. From the relaxed stance he had taken the servant guessed he'd been standing there for a while. "Your Highness," Trowa said with a small bow, lowering his flute.

"I hope you don't mind me coming here," the heir to the throne said with an apologetic smile. "I just heard the music and I was curious where it came from."

"It's fine." It was annoying, really, having his former master just show up in his room unannounced. But Quatre was crown prince and you did not tell the crown prince where he could and could not go in his own castle.

"I didn't know you played the flute," the royal said, stepping in and closing the door behind him.

"I just bought it last week."

"Can I see?" Trowa handed the flute to his former master, who examined it critically. "It's not very good," he said, turning it over in his hands.

"I just started." Did the prince really expect him to become an expert player in just one week?

"No, I mean the flute," Quatre amended quickly. "I'm surprised you can make it sound like you did, because the flute is not a very good quality." He handed it back with a gentle smile. "Or perhaps I'm just spoiled," he said, trying to sound amiable.

Trowa put the flute back in its case and carefully placed it in a drawer. He didn't care that the instrument was not an expert piece of work. He liked the music it made and, in his own opinion, he thought he was doing alright learning to play it.

"Would you like me to hire a tutor for you?"

Just the thing for the prince to offer. "I earn my own money now," Trowa simply replied. He did not need such favours from the prince anymore.

"Right." An awkward moment seemed to pass between the former lovers. It seemed they just couldn't find the right balance anymore. "Well, I'll just leave you to it then," the prince finally said.

Trowa nodded. "Good night, Prince Quatre."

"Good night, Trowa.

-AOAO-

Tradition, they called it. Every heir to the High Seat of Chang had gone to the east to study and now he had to go as well. What was there to learn about an unsophisticated people across the eastern rivers? They were the ones who should cross the river to study, not him!

And just who the hell did those barbarians think they were, shipping him off like some piece of cargo? The king of Sanc had declared himself too busy and had decided Wu Fei Chang should move to his sister in the country next door. His family had foolishly agreed, congratulating him on being the first to travel such distance and telling him to bring back the wisdom of the far eastern nation.

What wisdom was there to gain here? Wu Fei knew they had all but stolen the knowledge of paper-making from his people and their armies fought foolishly at best. He had seen these knights of theirs fight and Wu Fei was sure that he could take on any one of them. His people should be conquering these lands, not sending him here.

"Are we there yet?"

"Not yet, Sir Chang." Of course not. How could they be? They were travelling with twenty people, after all. Honestly, how they even made progress he would never understand.

And what was it with that 'sir'? On his first day Wu Fei had tried to make them understand that he was to be addressed as Master Chang, but they had flatly refused, saying they were not slaves. Instead they had insisted on calling him 'Sir'. Wu Fei had no idea what 'Sir' exactly stood for, but then he didn't understand the concept of slaves either. They were labourers of the lowest class, he gathered that much. But why they were so disrespected he had no clue. In his clan the workers were honoured because they built the foundations on which the clan leaders could rule. Without a labouring class delivering decent work, what was a nation going to do?

In a couple of days they would arrive in the capital. In a couple of days Wu Fei would meet this sister of the king and her husband. Would they be as insufferable as the brother? The huge blond king had dined with him, but his servants had allowed Wu Fei's plate to be completely emptied. And they had spoken to him, actually asked if he wanted a refill. That was just one of those small things people did here that made no sense. When he was done eating, he would simply stop eating. What was so hard to understand about that?

Not that the foods in these lands were any good. Even their spicy meals couldn't compare to what they had back home. He was never going to admit it, of course, but if there was anything that Wu Fei missed most from his home country it was the food. They barely even had rice here. Instead they had those thick balls they called potatoes that felt like dirt in his mouth and tasted even worse.

How was he going to survive on those potatoes for a whole year? Two weeks he'd been travelling now and he was already sick of them. Oh, this was going to be hell.

-AOAO-

His behind was almost healed now, but he still winced when he forgot and just flopped himself down in the chair or onto the floor. It was quite a humorous thing to see, really. He'd let himself fall, only to shoot right back up again, cursing loudly. The slave certainly hadn't lost his voice during his punishment for attacking Geoffrey.

Geoffrey was back at work again as well. Heero was glad for that. He'd know the butler all his life, had grown up with him around. That man was the one who had become Heero's personal servant once he became old enough to have one and when he'd moved into his own wing of the Yuy mansion he'd requested this man became his butler, the promotion making him head of Heero's household.

Without Geoffrey around there were so many small matters that just didn't get the attendance they should. It was an eye-opener to the young lord just how much he relied on that man. Miss Maxwell had done her best to take over, but running the household was just a step up from what she was used to. She was capable enough when dealing with servants, directing them towards their chores, but Geoffrey at times seemed able to read Heero's mind. With that man he never had to ask for a glass of wine, the butler would have it ready before Heero even thought of it. And when Heero wanted papers brought to him, he never needed to explain which ones he meant. Geoffrey was entirely familiar with his employer's ways, which that showed how dedicated he was to his Lord.

And Heero was certain Geoffrey had not and would not ever attempt to touch his belongings without being ordered to do so. The butler had voiced his doubts about Heero's acquirement once or twice, for he believed someone as wild as that should not be brought into a proper household. But having known that man all his life, Heero could be absolutely certain the man would never, ever attack the Shinigami, even if he would not always conceal his dislike when in private. He was well aware his place in this household was as a servant to Heero. It was a line he had never crossed before and Heero could not believe he ever would. Even Prince Quatre agreed with him on this. The prince had once called Geoffrey loyal to a fault. And sure enough, once he had recovered, Geoffrey had gone back to serving as if nothing had happened.

The Shinigami, however, had changed. It had taken Heero a couple of days to realise because the boy still knew how to make cheeky remarks and how to grin at the least appropriate times, but he was more subdued than he had been before. It was like he was more in control of himself, or perhaps he was just more afraid of losing himself and therefore kept a tighter leash on his behaviour. Either way, it made the slave look just a little less like a wild animal or a Shinigami and just that little more like a normal human.

Prince Quatre had told him before that slaves were humans and not animals. Heero thought he was beginning to see what the prince meant. With animals, in order to tame them you worked with punishments and rewards. On this slave that just never seemed to work as well. This one seemed to behave a whole lot better if he understood what was going on. If he knew why something had to be done, he was much more likely to do it –and much more pleasant about it too- than if he was just told to obey.

When Heero just told him to close the window shutters he'd balk and groan and say that there was no food for payment and thus no incentive. But the other night, when Heero had said that the warmer weather was attracting bugs and the shutters had to be closed for that reason, the boy had just gone about it without complaint.

Why though? Why complain so much about something so simple when you knew that obedience would score points and was likely to gain you more freedom sooner? And then why all of a sudden stop complaining when you were told why something had to be done? Why couldn't he just trust Heero's judgement in the first place? Why did he always have to keep fighting?

The butler was recovered and back at work. The slave was also recovered from his punishment. And after yet another talk with Prince Quatre regarding slaves –the prince had somehow found out about the incident and had wanted Heero to tell him what had happened- Heero had decided to adjust his strategy.

He was seated in his comfortable chair and the Shinigami was standing by the window, looking out over the grounds towards the lights of the capital. The boy seemed to enjoy looking outside. It was no surprise as that window was the only connection the slave really had to life beyond this chamber.

Now seemed as good a time as any to give Quatre's plan a try. The prince had said he might not want to wait for the boy to heal and start retaliating again. Better to keep him guessing, make him see progress. Heero reached in his pocket and touched the crystal. In an instant, both shackles on the boy's wrists were released from their chains, which fell to the floor with a clunk. The slave jumped at the sudden change in weight and stared at his wrists.

"Duo." Heero had decided the name seemed to fit. "In my study, two doors down, on my desk is a book I need, brown cover, an hourglass on the front." The boy couldn't read, so that was the best way to describe it. Heero had chosen the book especially for this little experiment. "Get it for me." With another touch to the crystal, the chain to the collar fell off as well.

Heero had prepared for this moment. It was the first time he let the slave out of those restrictions altogether since bringing him here. The study had a door that led to the hallway and the door was unlocked. Guards were placed down the stairs, positioned so that the slave could not see them if he just looked down the hallway. It was a simple test. Heero wondered what the slave would do.

"Uh..." The slave's surprise was expected but still quite an amusing thing to watch. "Yes, Master." With a frown on his face, the slave made his way to the doors separating the bedchamber from the sitting room and that one from the study.

Heero listened carefully. The boy was taking his time, probably having a good look at the sitting room he had to pass through and then Heero heard him move to the study itself. He'd put the door between his bedchamber and the hallway slightly ajar and sure enough, he heard the unmistakable sound of another door being opened down the hallway.

Heero reached the hallway just in time to see the slave speed up to make a run for it, but the slave had seen him also. With little effort Heero blocked the slave's escape route. Duo came to a halt before Heero and sighed. He realised he'd been caught before his flight had even begun. Heero pushed open the door to his bedchamber and the slave stepped back in. Only then did Heero realise the slave had been carrying something. He threw it in the air as he passed Heero, intending for the lord to catch it, which he automatically did.

It was the brown book with the hourglass. The boy had taken that while trying to flee? That made little sense. Heero followed the slave back into his bedchamber and threw the book aside and crossed his arms.

"Was this some kind of test?" The boy caught on quickly enough.

"You said I never gave you a chance to prove yourself," Heero said and the slave frowned at that.

The boy laughed, but it was a light-hearted laugh rather than a mocking one. "Guess I screwed up, huh?" If he were mocking anyone, he was mocking himself.

"Yes." Heero stepped forward and grabbed the boy's arm. He was surprised when he met no resistance as he pulled the slave back to his chains, nor when he secured the loose chains back to the collar and the shackles. The slave already figured that for a punishment he would not be given space to move around, for he moved back to the spot where his blankets lay and just sat down.

"Hey, Master. You think next time you wanna test me you could warn me?" Duo asked.

"That would defeat the purpose."

"Right. I guess it would."

-AOAO-

There were several things Heero had learned from that first test. First off he'd learned that Duo just had to run. The boy could have known that Heero would be keeping a close eye on him, yet he had to try to get away anyway.

The second thing Heero had noticed was that the boy was not stupid. This was something he'd already noticed on several occasions. The slave had realised quickly that his escape was not going to work and rather than fighting it and making things worse for himself, he'd just stopped his attempt and walked right back into the one room of this house that by now he probably knew like the back of his hand.

The one thing that he was left wondering about was why Duo had even bothered to pick up the book Heero had asked for. If running had been his first thought, he wouldn't have looked for the book. Perhaps he just took running as a chance that passed by.

If that last part were true, then Heero knew what he should be looking for if he wanted more from the boy. It was two days later when he decided to test him again. Of course it was dinner time. In the evenings Heero had more time to spend in his chambers. Business was done during the day and he had to go to the capital to meet this lord or that quite often during the morning or afternoon. In the evenings, those nobles who'd travelled to the capital wanted to enjoy what a city had to offer and that left Heero with his evenings in which to finish his work and just relax.

Along with dinner, this time Heero had brought up a black shirt for the boy to wear. Since he'd let Helen cut away that black piece of garment when she cleaned him up, the boy had not had anything to wear on his upper body. It was warm enough now to go about without much and it would get warmer still when summer fully dawned on them, but the slave had kept those blankets close to cover his upper body. The reason he'd not been given anything else before was because that would mean having to remove the chains to give him a chance to put it on.

Heero put down the boy's dinner and the black shirt and stood back. The boy instantly noticed the piece of clothing and touched it, holding it out to see what is was. Heero took that action as his cue to remove the chains. This time the slave was not so surprised to see them fall off him.

Heero kept a careful eye on the slave who put the thing on quickly. The lord had not much sense of fashion. He knew what he had to know about the clothes worn by the upper class, but that was about it. Helen was the one who'd chosen this shirt. It was as black as the pants the slave wore and when he turned, Heero could see that she'd found one that fit his body well. It was not skin tight, but it followed his shape perfectly.

"Hey, this actually looks pretty good." Duo had turned to the one mirror Heero had in his bedroom and was admiring himself.

"You like it?" A strange question from a master to a slave, but then Heero was surprised by the slave's reaction.

"Yeah, did you pick this?"

Heero shook his head. "Helen," he said simply and the slave grinned.

"That makes sense," he replied with a grin. "She knows how to dress." And then it was time to eat.

When dinner was finished and Heero still made no move to restrain the Shinigami, the boy looked at him questioningly. "So, does this mean I passed your test? Master?" He added when he saw Heero raise an eyebrow.

"Yes." Heero answered, not taking his gaze off the youth.

"Well then, what's the prize I won?"

Heero considered that for a moment. Of course, the boy was just joking, but still, a small reward couldn't hurt. "You'll join me in here." He walked to the double doors that led to the adjoining sitting room. A change of scenery for the slave. A small change, but one he should welcome after being stuck in one room for so long with so very little to do but wait for Heero to come up.

The boy made a curious sound, but followed him nonetheless. Looks like he wasn't about to let his newfound piece of freedom go to waste so soon.

"Sit." Heero poured himself a glass of wine and when he turned around he found that the boy had flopped down on the sofa, lounging elegantly. It was a part of that spirit Heero had come to like that the boy refused to sit on the floor at such a simple order, though he knew full well it was the place a slave was supposed to take. Heero just chuckled and sat down on the sofa as well, glass in wine in hand.

The sofa was a comfortable one and quite big. Duo realised that quickly enough as he decided to try several positions to lounge. Heero watched him, barely hiding his amusement. The slave was not used to having such a comfortable seat. Not after spending three months on a hard floor or, if the chains allowed it, on a simple wooden chair. After a couple of positions, Duo's hand accidentally brushed over a book and it caught his attention.

"What's this one about, Master?" The slave asked, picking it up.

Right, he couldn't read. Most of Heero's books did not have many pictures. This one only had a title on its cover. "The military."

"Military?" He opened the book. "You mean about knights in shining armour?"

"It's about knights," Heero confirmed. "And one of their duties is to keep their armour shining. But it's not a fairy tale book."

"Well, then what is it about?"

"Military tactics," Heero replied. "Defeating your enemies."

"They make books about that?" The boy was looking at one of the few pictures this book had, with arrows pointing in which ways the army could be moved in that particular battle.

"They make books about everything since the invention of paper and printing," Heero simply replied.

"Really?" The slave asked, without glancing up. "Do they make books about slaves?" The question was phrased just a little too casually.

"There are books on how to train them." Heero did not see the point in lying. The boy shouldn't have asked if he did not want to know.

The slave thought about that for a moment. "Is that what you're using on me?" He asked quietly.

His tone put Heero on guard, but he sipped his wine to hide that. "The usual methods don't seem to work well on you," he replied.

"Then what does seem to work?" Was he trying to see through what Heero was doing? Well, he had an interesting answer for him.

"You need a place where you'll want to stay."

The boy's head whipped up and Heero's free hand moved towards the crystal. The shackles could still be forced together without the chains attached. Pain could still be applied. "And what makes you think that place is here?" The Shinigami asked, his face showing a dangerous smirk.

Glass of wine in one hand, the crystal in the other, hidden in the pocket, Heero left the couch and walked towards the window. He had his back turned to the slave, but was very alert to the sounds coming from behind him. He heard none other than breathing. "You know what's out there," he said simply. "You know what you'll find if you run off." He turned back to the slave, who was watching him warily. "I told you. As long as you're mine, you won't have to kill anyone again."

They stared at each other for the longest time, neither moving, neither speaking. The boy was measuring him and Heero could not afford to lose, not now the slave was out of those chains for the first time. So he stared back levelly until it was Duo who finally looked away. "Ah, this sucks."

He'd won another battle. He watched as the boy shifted to lay himself down on the couch. Heero sat down again as well and took the book the slave had been looking through. By the time he was ready to go to bed, he found that the Shinigami was already asleep. Too bad. He couldn't possibly leave him here. The risk was just too great.

Heero put the book away and walked back to his slave asleep on the couch. He tried to shake him awake. A hand reached out lazily. "'M not done yet," he mumbled.

Heero frowned. "Wake up," he said, shaking the boy again.

"Don't wanna," the boy replied stubbornly, but Heero could see the eyes were beginning to open.

"Duo..." He said warningly.

The eyes opened up fully and the slave turned to look at him. "Oh." With a sigh, the boy pushed himself up from the couch. "Time for bed?" He asked, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Yes," Heero said, walking towards the bedroom. "Come."

He looked reluctant, but he obeyed. Again there was no sign of struggle when Heero attached the chains to the collar and the shackles again. When he was done, the boy just lay down on the floor, curling up in his blankets with his back towards his master's bed. The couch must have been so much more comfortable.

* * *

princess/rlyblue

So Heero is taking Duo's training a step further, Trowa obtained his flute, and welcome to the stage to Wu Fei. You guys so far seem to believe the characters are as IC as an AU can keep them. Hopefully you'll feel the same about Wu Fei. Hope you enjoyed this chapter too! I love hearing from you guys, so leave me a note please!


	11. 10: Prejudice

Hi all! Herewith chapter ten of challenging hope. Sorry I'm a day late. It's a very busy motnh for me, but I'll do my best to be in time next week.

Thank and warnings in earlier chapters, nothing special for this one.

* * *

10: Prejudice

It wasn't often that the princess came to Prince Quatre's quarters. They usually met the other way around. Princess Relena only stopped by when she wanted something and hadn't had the time or opportunity to ask her husband to stop by later.

It was always a surprise to see the princess in the prince's quarters. For some reason she seemed out of place there. Her own room was filled with furniture that seemed to have been made by artists, with their flowery designs and soft colours. Quatre's room, on the contrary, was practical, his furniture rather simple. The funny thing was, if Quatre entered the princess' rooms, he seemed to fit there just as well as he did in his own rooms, but apparently it didn't work the other way around.

It was not Trowa's place to judge. Instead he stood in the shadows and watched as the two spoke, ready to move if anything was needed.

"My wife, what is bothering you?" Quatre queried, greeting the princess with a kiss on her forehead.

"Always the perceptive one." The princess smiled. "I wanted to discuss our arriving guest."

Quatre raised an eyebrow, folding his hands behind his back. "Wu Fei of the clan of Chang?" He asked and the princess nodded. "What is it?"

They were speaking of that high lord from far off to the west, Trowa realised. King Peacecraft had decided that he was still too busy getting his own country under control to deal with a man whose ways were obviously so completely different from theirs. Prince Quatre had explained that this was why the king had opted to send him here, to his sister as she had more patience in dealing with people than he had.

"Well, I feel that his arrival comes at a... an unfortunate time." The princess turned away, indicating that she was not happy about making that confession.

The heir apparent frowned softly in concern. "How so, my dear?"

"Since the coming of Katherine everything has changed. I feel like... like I've only just managed to get back to living my life and she needs me so much. This man, this Wu Fei, from what my brother tells me he knows nothing of our ways," the princess explained.

The prince responded. "What is it you're worried about? I'm certain he will adapt."

"I'm confident he will eventually," she agreed. "But I fear that I just don't have the time he deserves to be guiding him. And it would be unfair to him if I just left him to his own devices."

Quatre sat down. "I understand how you feel," he said, frowning. "But honestly, what do you expect me to do? Your brother doesn't have the time for him and I don't think he will appreciate being pushed on to yet another country."

"Can't one of your sisters take him instead?" The princess pleaded, but Quatre shook his head.

"From what I understand, his culture does not allow him to take instructions from women. You would be alright as you are the wife of a crown prince, but anything less…"

"I see. That is unfortunate." They were both silent for a moment, pondering their options. "Then what about Heero?" Princess Relena suggested. "You told me Lord Heero Yuy is always looking for new challenges."

"Heero, huh?" Quatre mulled the idea. "I don't think this is the kind of challenge he means when he speaks of them," he responded slowly.

"But it would be perfect," Relena clasped her hands. "I mean, Wu Fei of Chang would be less than an hour's ride from the castle and from what I understand, his people are mostly farmers anyway. He would probably feel more at home on the countryside than he ever would in a big castle in a big capital. And I'm certain Heero wouldn't mind, if you're the one to request. After all, you're friends, right?"

"We are," Quatre acquiesced. "Well, I suppose I can make the suggestion."

Trowa frowned at the thought of this stranger coming to live in Heero's house. Lord Yuy was not going to be pleased.

* * *

The heir to the High Seat of Chang had to admit that the dragon killer's city was quite impressive. Where he came from there were no such things as cities. At most they had what these people would call a 'town', though perhaps these people would not even consider it more than a village.

Then again, it was dangerous to stack so many people together. It made for easy attack by enemies. The walls would protect for a while, he guessed, but they wouldn't last forever. These people must not fear many enemies. Within his homeland there was always the threat of the neighbouring clans. The longer the peace that lasted, the stronger the war that would follow. It had always been so, for as long as their history recorded. He'd have to find out about the history of these people, if they so carelessly put hundreds of individuals together in one place.

Being surrounded by servants and luxury was not at all new to the heir of Chang. Though the castle was much different from the houses he was used to, he felt remarkably comfortable as he followed the servant who'd been sent to meet him and guide him to the king and his son and daughter-in-law. He easily dismissed the few servants they came across in the hall, ignoring their bows, which he suspected were made extra low so that they would have more time to stare at him. Honestly, it was as if they had never seen a guest of the king before! Then again, they had probably never seen a guest from the west.

By his standards all these Easterners were tall, but to their standards their king must be of average height. He looked impressive, clothed in his formal costume, even Wu Fei had to admit that. It was, however, not the kind of costume that was designed for easy movement, as his clan chief would wear. It was yet another sign that these people did not fear an enemy attack. Instead it was their custom to show off their riches, judging by the heavy jewellery the king wore.

The prince was the one who addressed him, though. Prince Quatre stood nearly as tall as his father, but his skin was pale even for a dragon killer. His hair was so light Wu Fei wondered if the sun itself could compare to it. His clothes, though like his father's showing that he was an important figure, seemed much more practical, as they were less heavy and fewer jewellery pieces were added.

By now Wu Fei had become used to seeing the women dress in an entirely different fashion from the women back home. In his country, women tried to hide their figure, making it look as flat as possible. Big breasts were considered shameful and were concealed and broad hips were made to stand out less by the women wrapping towels over their middle under their clothes. Back home showing certain parts of skin, such as at the wrists or ankles was how women flirted with men, when they were at an age of marriage and found someone of their interest.

Here things were definitely different. The women dressed to accentuate that strange shape the female body had, the clothes pulling tight around the middle and then left loose above and below. The skirts were often wide and flowed as they walked, which they did especially to make their skirts move if they wanted to flirt with a man. But what perhaps astonished Wu Fei the most was that not only the young and available women dressed this way, but older women tried to look like they were still at an age of marriage as well. Even the princess herself wore a dress that was tight in the middle like that and everyone knew she was married to the prince. Her dress looked –again- more expensive than anything any other in the room wore and the hair was put up in a way that seemed as if hours had been spent on it. And yet, at the same time, the way she dressed, the way she wore herself was more concealing than many of the women in this room, though Wu Fei was quite sure it had more to do with her position than with her state of marriage.

"I thought I would be residing here." He did his best to keep the irritation out of his voice, but was unsure on whether or not he fully succeeded.

"You will be less than an hour away from the capital," the prince explained, sounding almost apologetic. "Lord Heero Yuy lives a more... common life than we live here in the castle. I pray that you do not be offended by this, for as I understood it was your assignment to learn about the way we live. I just feel that we live much too secluded to really teach you about our ways." It didn't sound practised at all and yet it did. "Of course, if you prefer to stay here..."

"No, it is alright." He had made himself sound attentive and though Wu Fei wondered if the consideration he had put in the words were true –with people so different it was hard to tell- he realised he could not refuse or he would risk insulting these people. "I shall go with this Lord you appointed."

"Great." The blond prince smiled and even the princess looked satisfied. She had not spoken much other than introducing herself. It seemed like the rumours of how much women were involved in politics in these countries was not true after all. "Lord Yuy has an estate in the countryside. As I said it is not far from the capital so you may, of course, visit at any time. You will fall under the responsibility of Heero Yuy, son of Lord Yuy. Heero governs the nobles who are in charge of the agricultural lands."

The heir of Chang had no idea how far up that brought this Lord Heero Yuy exactly. He did not know the culture well enough to judge at this time whether he was sent away to some meaningless lord to be dealt with or whether they actually did him honour by sending him there, but he would find out soon enough.

"It sounds interesting, Your Highness," Wu Fei replied with a bow. "I shall do my best to bring honour to your people and I shall learn attentively." It was the most proper reply, or at least it was in his country. From the puzzled looks on some of the faces attending the meeting, it seemed like it was not something they were used to hearing.

The prince, however, was still smiling as if he understood. "I am certain you shall, Master Wu Fei of Chang."

* * *

She was not so reluctant to be going into the room that held the Shinigami as she had been that first time. She'd been told to gather Master Yuy's laundry again and she knew he wasn't going to harm her. First off, he would be secured to the wall and second, he hadn't made a single hostile move towards her the first time they'd met. And perhaps he was asleep again as he was last week when she'd come to get the laundry.

Everybody knew of what the Shinigami had done to the butler, Mister Geoffrey. Hilde wondered why he'd done it, but she knew she wouldn't dare to ask anytime soon. Some of the servants had tried to convince her to ask questions, but she'd just refused, saying that was not the job she was being sent up for.

The first time she'd been quite scared of him throughout the whole encounter, even when he showed her the pretty sparkling crystal he'd gotten. But once she was back downstairs again and had some time to think about it, she realised he had only been trying to be nice to her. The only people he ever saw up there were the master and Miss Maxwell. He was probably just looking for someone to talk to, someone to fill his boring days of waiting.

Therefore, despite knowing what he was capable of, she actually smiled when she saw he was awake this time and grinning at her.

"Hey you," he said, though in a playful tone, not a mocking or threatening one. "Laundry day again?"

"Yes," she answered. "Someone has to do it, right?"

"I guess." He watched her as she collected the laundry. "Can't have Heero running around in dirty clothes. What would the other nobles ever think of that?" The sarcasm was impossible to miss.

"Everybody has their jobs." Hilde had figured he was this kind of slave, the kind that just couldn't accept what he was. She could understand it, but still it was a little sad. Especially since there was nothing that they could do about it.

"Some just have more important jobs than others," he retorted snorting.

Hilde sighed and gathered up the last piece of laundry. She was not in the mood for this kind of conversation. Best just get out of here and let him wallow in his own self-pity.

She was surprised when, as she was about to leave, he called after her. "Can't you stay a little?"

She turned back to him, giving him a look that clearly showed she didn't see any point in lingering if he was just going to speak ill of their master anyway.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I won't be like that, just... please stay a little longer. I'd like to have someone to talk to. If you have the time." The last part was added as an afterthought.

She considered it. She was a housekeeping slave, therefore she did not have to serve on anyone. She had to help keep the house in order and the only thing left for her after laundry was cleaning the downstairs floors. It was a short time until dinner anyway, so she could just do that tonight. Miss Maxwell, who was in charge of the housekeeping, trusted her enough not to inquire about her whereabouts all the time. As long as she finished her work on time and stayed out of trouble doing it, the head of housekeeping would not inquire. And the master never inquired, just left it up to Miss Maxwell. Though Hilde had been bought by Master Heero, she rarely had to deal with him. The only times she ever saw him was when she was working in a room he wished to use and then he just shooed her.

"I have a couple of minutes, I guess," she offered hesitating, as she put the laundry basket aside. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I dunno." He considered it for a moment. "Can you tell me about how things work in this house?"

* * *

He was irritated to say the least. It wasn't often that Prince Quatre would actually demand something of him, but this time he had. Actually, it was Heero's own fault. He could have just accepted when Quatre first asked, but instead he was foolish enough to question whether or not this was a request he could turn down. It wasn't. And now he was stuck with some lord from some faraway country. A small lord with a big title and, by the look in his eyes, even greater arrogance.

The Lord Wu Fei, who practically insisted to be called 'Master' rather than Lord, demanded a certain amount of respect Heero was not one to give to anyone who had not earned it. Of course, the outlander wouldn't just come straight out and say such a thing, but it was clear from the way he held himself that he thought he was better than anyone he could see around him. And that annoyed Heero more than just a little.

When he had the outlander appointed to quarters that had been made ready at a moment's notice, he'd seen the clear disapproving look on the smaller man's face. What did he expect, that his servants could just whip up a paradise in mere minutes? They weren't gods. And the crown prince had been deliberate in not telling him in advance that this man would be staying with him –for perhaps as long as a year!- because that would have given Heero time to try and dissuade him.

So when Heero headed up to his bedchamber early to feed the slave he kept locked up there, he was ready to be set off at even the slightest miscalculation. Seeing how Duo had company from that slave girl, Hilde, was enough.

Hilde was quite obviously startled by his arrival, which Heero could only interpret as her not having to be there at that moment. Realising his anger was not towards her, he just stepped away from the door and threw her an ice cold "Out." She hastily gathered her laundry before scurrying out of the room.

When the door was closed, the irritation continued as the slave indignantly asked if the girl was in any trouble. "That is none of your business," Heero snapped, placing the food on the table none too gently.

"It's my fault." The slave merely glanced at the food. "I asked her to stay. If you're gonna get her punished, you better punish me too."

"Alright." Heero touched the crystal and, totally caught by surprise the slave fell to his knees and doubled over, only managing to bite back the cry after a few moments. Heero let go of the crystal, cursing himself. He shouldn't have done that, but he really had no patience left. "Don't try me again," he told his slave coldly.

The slave needed a moment to catch his breath and Heero watched him, trying to calm down. It wouldn't do to make this one pay just because he was angry. Luckily Duo seemed to catch on because when he spoke, it was in a much more submissive manner, even if the words were not. "Geez," the slave responded, getting to his feet. "What got the Master in such a cheerful mood?"

"Again, not your business," Heero replied impatiently, deciding perhaps it was best not to wait around for the Shinigami to finish his food this time. He turned back to the door.

"Is it because of that stranger that you had to take in?" The Shinigami asked suddenly.

How the hell did he know? That slave girl. "She told you?"

"Her name is Hilde," Duo retorted.

Heero glared at him levelly. "I know."

"You do?" There was suddenly that innocent surprise on the boy's face, which was all that kept Heero from punishing him again. "Hadn't pegged you for the kind to remember your servants' names."

"Then you pegged me wrong," he answerred coolly. "Eat."

* * *

The Lord of Chang had expressed that he preferred to spend the first evening alone to get acquainted with the feel of what would be his home for a while. His words made little sense to Heero and his ways even less, which was why he had not bothered to try and change the smaller lord's mind. Instead he had decided he would retire early. He'd calmed down from the initial anger of being forced in this position and though he was not fatigued, he knew that tomorrow would be a long day.

He got his slave to help him out of his clothes and into his nightgown. Heero was tense every time he let him come near, fully aware that this boy was the Shinigami, but he also realised that as much as the slave needed to learn about Heero, the lord needed to start trusting his slave. Besides, it couldn't hurt to give the boy more chores and there weren't many of those to choose from, considering that he wasn't quite ready to let the boy out of his chains for any extended period of time yet. He was certainly never out of his chains when he helped Heero dress down. That took a little more trust than Heero was as yet willing to give him. He was the Shinigami, after all.

So far, the boy had not made a single move to try and harm Heero since the incident with the butler. In fact, now that Heero let him out of those chains every so often, the boy seemed intent on showing his Master that he could be trusted. He still made remarks that were not very suitable for anyone -much less a slave- to make, but he obeyed most of the time. And when he dressed Heero down, the worst he ever did was make snide remarks about his fancy clothes.

This evening he was silent, though. Heero wondered if that had anything to do with what had happened when he'd come to bring him dinner. In fact, he didn't speak at all until he held up Heero's night robe.

"Master?" It sounded subdued, tentative, as if he was unsure of Heero's mood.

"Yes?" Heero tied the robe himself. He wasn't going to sleep just yet.

"Is Hilde... Did she get punished bad?"

So that was what was bothering him. He was worried about that girl. "Not if she finished her chores on time," Heero answered simply.

It took him a moment to figure out what the master as saying. "You mean you don't know?"

Heero shrugged. "She's for housekeeping. She's Helen's responsibility."

He seemed relieved at hearing Helen's name. Heero wondered how much he trusted her. "Then... you didn't say anything?"

"No." He seemed relieved at that. It dawned on Heero that the slave probably had no idea how he was with his other servants and slaves, being locked up here all the time. Heero wasn't about to tell him either. He did not have to explain himself towards a slave, nor did he need to inform him on how the household was run. Besides, he doubted if the Shinigami would believe him anyway.

Heero was just seated in his comfortable chair when the boy spoke again. "Master... why exactly am I here?"

"You live here." Though Heero figured the slave meant something else.

"No, I mean, why did you buy me?" Duo clarified.

"Because I wished to," The noble answered simply.

"Well, obviously," the slave retorted, though again he managed not to sound too disrespectful. "But why?" When Heero didn't respond, he elaborated. "I mean, you haven't used me to get yourself off, you haven't paraded me around to show off that you got me, you're not making me do much and you're not beating the crap out of me either. You just feed me and have me keep your room tidy."

Heero had wondered if and when the boy was going to ask. He certainly had the spirit to do it, but Heero hadn't been sure if he was going to bother. The insecurity he voiced with that question was a weakness that could easily be exploited by an owner and Heero intended to use it. He knew his answer would be crucial, though. Therefore he took the time to come up with the right words.

"I am no different from any other owner you've had," the young lord started. "When I heard you were back on the market, I was as curious about the one with such an interesting reputation as anyone else would have been. I wanted to have the one with that reputation, to see for myself if the rumours were true." It was not an affectionate answer, but then affection was not what Heero was offering the boy.

The boy considered the words carefully, his expression dark. "If that's the case, then why haven't you fucked me yet?" Ah, the bluntness of the question

"Would you rather I did?" Heero asked, equally straightforward.

"No." The answer was quick enough. "It just... doesn't make sense."

"Anyone can tie a slave down and use him," Heero answered with a shrug. "There's no bravery in that." He was again reminded of his initial plan to make the Shinigami lay with him willingly, but he knew he couldn't confess that here.

"Bravery?" The slave asked. "You want to be brave?"

"Not exactly." Heero got up to sit on the edge of the bed, facing the slave. Again he thought carefully on how to best explain it without revealing his plans in detail. The metaphor came to him.

"There's a country far away from here where they have a delicacy known as a blowfish." He started, looking at his slave, who was seated on a blanket and looking up at him with some apprehension. "They are a type of fish that can only be prepared by the best cooks, because their liver is extremely toxic and if it is not removed correctly, the one eating the fish will die." His father had told him this one one of those occasions he'd insisted Heero share a meal with him. It seemed a fitting metaphor here.

"That's what I intend to do with you, cut away the poison while taking care that the meat is still good to consume."

The Shinigami seemed puzzled at that for a while and Heero gave him some time to figure it out. Just when Heero thought he seemed to be getting the idea, the boy's face changed to the sort of scowl he'd come to label as preceding a complaint and the boy leaned forward. "Did you just compare me to a fish?"

Heero leaned forward as well. "A blowfish," he corrected, slightly amused.

Duo glared at him for a moment as if insulted, then looked away.

Heero knelt down on the floor in front of the boy and cupped his chin, turning the head back to look at him. "As long as you're with me, you won't have to kill anyone again." He was not making promises that lasted beyond his possession, knowing he would not be able to keep them. But he made this one pledge as he had made it before.

Duo had heard it before and he'd had time to come up with a response now. "And what makes you think I don't want the kill?" He asked darkly.

That was easy. "Your eyes," Heero answered, letting go of the slave's chin and seating himself back on the edge of his bed. "I've trained among the knights long enough to recognise the eyes of someone who joins hoping to kill." Every son of a noble had to train with the knights for four years, between their twelfth and sixteenth year. "You don't have that look."

"You think I'm not capable of killing?" Heero had never asked if the boy had actually killed his previous owners. Someday he would, but not until he was certain he would get an honest answer.

"I think you are capable of doing what you need in order to survive." He was sure the boy had killed at one point. That showed in his eyes as well. Heero pushed himself back on his bed, ready to get under the covers and sleep, but the boy wasn't finished just yet.

"Is that why you're going so careful about it?" He asked. "With these chains custom made and all. You're afraid I'll see you as an obstacle I need to remove for my survival?"

"I take it easy because I have ample time and no desire to break you." Heero yawned, wondering for a moment if he was revealing too much. "Without your spirit you'll be practically worthless."

"You mean to sell me when you're finished then?"

"I don't mean it for the coin." Heero blew out the candle. "I mean it like the blowfish. Now go to sleep."

The boy muttered something about blowfish, but Heero heard the rustling of the blankets being moved around and soon the boy fell silent.

* * *

princess/rlyblue

So, halfway through the story already. It's going fast! Again, I love hearing your opinions! What do you think of Heero's comparison of Duo with the blowfish? And do you like the idea of Wu Fei staying with Heero or would you rather have seen him as Quatre's guest instead?

Also, I hope you don't hate Relena's characterisation. A lot of 1x2 fans hate her. I don't particularily like her, but I don't think she's the total idiot girl she's made out to be in a lot of fanfiction. In fact, I think her character grows the most in the series (and it helps watching the Japanese version where she sounds intelligent instead of the English subbed one where her voice is like that of a 7-year-old). When she is forced into the role of queen of the world, I think she handles it brilliantly, taking the little bit of freedom she's given to turn things her way, just like a queen from 800 years ago would have been able to do. What do you think? Like her or hate her?


	12. 11: Blindness

Hi all, here's chapter 11, nice and early so I don't forget. I'm happy you guys like my characterisation and I'm glad you agree with how Relena behaves as well. Please read the end notes because I have a question for you. But first, have fun with chapter 11!

Thanks to my beta readers SFA and Nightshade

Warnings: A break-up and a trauma

* * *

11: Blindness

"Would you mind telling me what you're so anxious about?"

Trowa looked up from his chore of putting the freshly laundered clothes back in the prince's dresser to look at the only other occupant in the room. "I'm not anxious," he denied.

Quatre snorted in a distinctive manner he only used when he was alone with his former slave. "Well, someone in this room is and it's not me."

Damn that empathy. Had there been a crowd, the blond prince would probably not have been able to pick it up and recognise it, let alone trace it to him, but there was no point denying it.

"I just..." Trowa was unsure of how to explain it. He didn't know how the crown prince was going to react

"Yes?" The prince asked impatiently.

"I've been thinking."

"About?" The young royal had no way of stopping him, since he was a servant now. Trowa knew that, but somehow it didn't make what he was going to do any easier.

"I think I am resigning," he said quietly, not turning around to face the his former master and love.

Quatre said nothing for a moment, but Trowa could hear the creaking of the bed, indicating that he'd sat down. "Is it something I did?" He finally managed.

"No, Your Highness." It was the only honest answer he could give.

Quatre considered it for a moment and Trowa dared not turn around. "Then why?" Came the soft question.

"Because I think I need to." It was hard to explain. He wasn't even sure he understood it all himself.

"Again, why?" Quatre asked. "Trowa, please, turn around and look at me." He sounded like he was begging. It was an unusual thing to hear from the prince and Trowa found that he could do nothing but obey.

"It's complicated," he replied hesitantly. "But it's not about you. Or about us. It's about me."

"You're free to go, of course." Quatre assured Trowa. "But please, I need a little bit more than that. Where will you be going?"

"To the north." That much he knew. The past months he'd grown increasingly curious about the magic that was probably in him and reading the book had only added to the flame he felt burning when he thought about using it.

"I see." Quatre looked away, down to his knees and Trowa saw in his lover's eyes that he did not see. Not really.

"I've been a slave all my life," he started trying to explain. "And then once I was free, I just kept doing what I'd been doing all along." He had the same chores he'd had as a slave, but now he got paid for it. It just wasn't enough. "I don't know who I am."

"And you think that going north will help you figure it out?" Quatre's voice was quiet, but Trowa could hear the grief in it.

"I think a different perspective would help."

"Are you going to seek out magic?" A dangerous question especially here in the castle. It warranted a diplomatic answer.

"I'm going to see where I came from."

"You've already made up your mind, haven't you?" There was defeat in his voice. Trowa found it hard to bear.

"I have." He wanted nothing more than to walk up to the prince and take the smaller form in his arms, but he feared that if he did, Quatre would return the embrace and Trowa's resolve would melt away.

"When will you be leaving?"

"In a few weeks, if possible," Trowa answered. There were enough people in the castle who could take over his chores immediately, so he did not have to wait for a replacement. "I have arrangements to make."

"I can make them for you." The prince offered without hesitation.

"A kind offer, but I can't take it."

Quatre looked up at him, frowning. "Why not?"

"Because, Your Highness, this is something I have to do on my own." Trowa brought his right hand to hover over his chest. "I feel it."

The prince seemed to consider it. "Then at least let me give you some money."

Trowa shook his head. "I have plenty from when you set me free."

"Are you certain?" That question was not about the money. Trowa could see that in his lover's eyes. He had to tear his gaze away before he could speak.

"I am."

The prince swallowed, but got up from the bed and nodded. "You are. I can see that. I won't try and stop you." He started towards Trowa. "But Trowa, please stay away from magic. It's evil. It will corrupt you."

"I'll see." He couldn't make such a promise, not when he knew that magic was one thing that drew him towards this decision.

Apparently Quatre saw, for his face suddenly turned from sad to serious. "Trowa!"

"I can't make any promises, aside from that I will be careful," Trowa answered, looking back at the prince's scowling face.

"That's just not good enough," the blond prince answered. "You know as well as I what magic does. It's forbidden for a reason."

"I know what I've been taught." Trowa answered. "But I also know what happened that day and I know that in the north there is a country where it's not forbidden and that country manages to keep itself at peace."

"Only by resorting to savage ways. Their peace is nothing short of oppression by those corrupted by magic." Trowa could see that Quatre firmly believed in what he was saying and he was not going to like Trowa's answer.

"I guess I just want to see that for myself." If the magic he wielded was used to save a life, then how could it be evil? People said that power corrupted, but the Winner family was doing a pretty good job running a monarchy. Couldn't magic be contained in the same way? Trowa wanted to find the answer to that question and for that he would have to go to the north where magic was allowed.

"You're fooling yourself if you think differently."

For the longest time that was what Trowa had believed as well. "Then why did you give me that book?" He questioned. It was, after all, reading the book about _The Building Blocks of_ _Magic_ that got him further interested.

"I wanted to help you understand what happened that day." He sounded on the verge of anger now and Trowa didn't like it. "Apparently it was a mistake."

"Apparently."

"Trowa, if you go north to learn magic, you know I can never allow you back."

It wasn't entirely true as only practising magic was forbidden, not the ability itself. But the meaning was clear enough. If Trowa chose magic, then he would be renouncing Quatre. It hurt more than Trowa thought he could bear. "You're going to ask me to choose?" He asked icily.

"I guess I am." The prince answered, just as cold.

Trowa's stomach felt sick. Of all the people in the world, he'd never thought it would be Quatre who would turn against him like this. "Why can't you see that this is just something I need to do?"

"What you need to do is stay away from magic."

"Stay with you as your lapdog, you mean." The words were harsh, but what Quatre was asking of him was just not fair. Trowa couldn't go on living as he had. He needed to know who he really was.

"Is that the thanks I get?" Quatre's voice was raised now. "I free you of a life in slavery and you run off to go get contaminated by magic instead?"

"I won't let it get that far!" Trowa was getting impatient and that was not like him. "I just want to see for myself."

"Then go." Quatre's voice sounded cold as ice and Trowa thought he could almost hear his heart break as the youth turned his back. "Go find magic and get yourself soiled."

"Quatre..."

"That's 'Your Highness' for you."

"Please..." Please understand.

"Go."

-AOAO-

Compared to the castle the Yuy manor was nothing. But then compared to the castle not a single building Wu Fei Chang had ever seen seemed to compare. Even the Peacecraft castle back in Sanc paled in comparison.

Having said that, Wu Fei had to admit that the Yuy manor was impressive enough. The building style in these lands was completely different from those in his own lands. While back home wood and paper were the main components for buildings, here it was stone. Wu Fei suspected that it must have to do with the climate. In the West winter was not nearly as harsh as it could be here and heavy winds were not as common there either. There was simply no need for the heavy, sturdy stones to protect the residents. Of course, it could also be something entirely different such as that these people hadn't learned how to use wood and paper in the same way his people had learned.

There were so many differences to overcome that sometimes Wu Fei wondered if a year would be enough. The latest difference was exactly the reason that he was on his way to Lord Heero Yuy's chambers to question him. After all, the servants hadn't provided him with a very understandable answer.

Wu Fei had been shown around and therefore knew where the lord worked. As, right now, he was not in the grand library nor in his study downstairs, Wu Fei figured he must be up in his personal wing. He'd said he'd be available for the first couple of days at least. Well, he'd just have to find him then.

There were two doors in the hallway that led to Heero Yuy's personal chambers. The first, he had been told, led to his bedchamber. Wu Fei could never enter that without the lord's permission. Bedchambers were private. The second door, the one further down the hall, led to the lord's private study. But Heero Yuy wasn't there either. Adjoined to the study was a door that should lead to his sitting room. Wu Fei figured there was no harm checking there.

"Excuse me." He said as he opened the door, only to find that this was another empty room. He stepped inside nonetheless. It was the last room he could check and perhaps there was some clue as to where he should be able to find the lord.

The room was tidy and aside from a book that seemed to have been carelessly left on the sofa –another thing to get used to, sofas and chairs and high tables and beds- there was nothing to indicate this room had been used recently. Same as with the study, really.

Wu Fei was about to head back when he heard something at the door leading to the bedroom. He turned to the door as it opened, expecting to be met by Heero Yuy, but instead, in the doorway stood the most curious thing he'd ever seen.

He was male. Wu Fei realised that with a start and he let his gaze go over the youth clad in black clothing. His eyes fell upon the insane length of hair pulled back in a braid. This one must be quite the warrior to have earned such a long braid! And at such an age! He must be a barbarian, there was no other explanation. Only barbarians let their children take on such heavy tasks at a young enough age to earn such a braid. But he also noticed something on the boy's wrists. Were they shackles? And were they attached to chains? They were, as was the collar around his neck!

What in the world was going on here?

The male looked as startled as Wu Fei felt and his eyes were wide as they took him in. Then a familiar voice spoke from the bedroom, an irritated familiar voice.

"Duo? What are you waiting for?" Something had the lord agitated for sure.

"Well, there's a savage in your room for one!" The braided man looked at Wu Fei defensively.

"A what?!" Had that barbarian just called him a... a savage? Who the hell did he think he was?!

Just then Lord Yuy appeared in the door opening. "He's not a savage," the lord told the barbarian. "Get back to the bedroom."

"But, your book," the barbarian protested.

Lord Yuy turned to glare at the braided male. "You are in enough trouble as it is. Get back now."

The barbarian's eyes widened even further, but he seemed to heed Lord Yuy's words and, with a 'yes, master' stepped back. Heero Yuy closed the door, leaving the two of them alone in the sitting room.

"You wanted something, Lord Chang?" Wu Fei felt an itch at the strange title these dragon killers insisted on using. He had not missed the barbarian's use of the 'master' title.

"He called me a savage." The least Wu Fei expected for that was an apology. Being called a savage was an insult to his honour and one he would not stand for.

He was, however, quite surprised at the one he got. "My apologies. He knows no better." That was it? An inclination of the head and a few simple words? Back home that would not be tolerated, for it was barely an apology at all! Back home the offender would be on his knees, pressing the forehead to the floor and begging forgiveness, while taking back the words. That was how apologies for such grave insults were done.

"Why was he chained?" The heir to the high seat of Chang demanded. "Is he a prisoner?"

"He is a slave," Lord Yuy answered.

A slave? "Do you chain up all your labourers?"

"He is not a labourer, he is a slave." Ah, so that was what these people meant by slave. Was that why he wore such a long braid?

"This is not the same?"

"No. Labourers work to get paid. Slaves work to get fed."

As if that explained anything. "Labourers don't get fed?"

"Labourers earn money with which they feed themselves," the lord continued to explain and Wu Fei thought he was starting to see sense.

"Then the labourers do a different kind of job than the slaves do?"

"Not necessarily." Wu Fei could see that the lord was trying to keep his patience, but with everything he said, things made less sense.

"They do the same kind of job, labourers and slaves?"

"Yes."

"Only slaves don't get money and labourers do?"

"Yes."

Right. "Why?"

"Because they are different."

"Because slaves are put to work in chains?" Why would they put them in chains like that? It made no sense.

"Not all slaves are put in chains like that." Heero Yuy rubbed his temple. "This one is rather... untrustworthy."

"You have an untrustworthy labourer in your house?" Those who proved undependable were just thrown out back home. If they wanted work, they should be more reliable.

"No. Yes." The lord closed his eyes for a moment and Wu Fei could see the frustration on the other man's face. Quite impolite to let such an emotion show in front of your guest. "It is a difficult subject to explain. I assume you did not come here to discuss slaves?"

That brought him back to his real reason for coming to find the lord. "No, I find that my bathing facilities are insufficient."

"Insufficient?" The lord asked. "How? Everything should be in working order."

"There is no space to wash myself before bathing," he explained.

"There is the tub." Well yes, there was the tub. But the tub was for relaxing.

"Where am I supposed to wash myself?" Perhaps they had other facilities for that?

"In the tub."

What? In the tub? "Seriously?" He seemed serious and a little confused to understand what Wu Fei's problem was. "You wash yourselves in the tub?"

The lord nodded. "Yes."

"That's disgusting."

It caused the lord to blink rapidly several times. "We do it all the time. I'll have a servant show you how if you wish."

There was something seriously wrong with these people. "No, I'll figure something out myself." Did he really think Wu Fei was going to allow a dragon slayer to show him how to bathe?

"Is there anything else?" The lord asked.

"Actually, I was wondering why you people insist on calling me 'Lord Chang'."

"It is not your title?" The lord asked.

"It is a title of your lands. Back home I am called 'Master Chang'."

"Ah." Heero Yuy frowned for a moment. "In our land having to call someone 'master' is considered an insult."

Was it? "Then why did that chained one call you 'master'?"

"He's a slave."

"Right." As if that explained everything.

"You do not seem to understand. Slaves are a lower class." That was... actually the first thing the lord said on the subject that made sense. "They are created from prisoners of war. Their descendants are born into it."

"Ah, I see." Much like their caste system. He was the heir to the High Seat of Chang because he was born for it, much like king Peacecraft was a descendant of a former king. Farmers gave birth to farmers, fighters gave birth to fighters. "They are like the untouchables."

"What are untouchables?" It was for the Yuy lord to not understand.

"They are the lowest caste. They deal with the bodies of the dead. To touch them is considered vile." There was no love for them in Wu Fei's voice.

Lord Heero Yuy seemed to consider that. "I suppose it is the same in some way," he said, turning slightly to face the door. "Slaves are bought and owned. The owners are called 'master'. The slaves have no choice in where they work or what kind of work they perform. They go where the master tells them to. Higher labourers, like servants, are free to go and find work elsewhere if they wish and have many liberties that slaves do not."

Yes, it did make some sense. At least Wu Fei thought it did. Not everything made sense, but he understood now that slaves were the lowest caste and much like prisoners, being forced to work. "And that one in there, you make him work in your bedroom?"

A faint flush spread across the lord's face, though his eyes remained stoic as they had throughout most of the conversation. Wait a minute. Did the slave do _that_ kind of work? Suddenly Wu Fei regretted that he even asked. "I think I shall test my bathing facilities now," he muttered quickly, before the lord could even answer his previous question.

-AOAO-

The first time Lord Yuy tried to blindfold his slave was a disaster. The thing was barely secured before the Shinigami tore it off his head and with a snarl threw it into a corner, glaring hard at his master.

So he was planning on being rebellious about this? Heero grabbed his slave's hair and gave him a warning glare, but, saying nothing, the Shinigami just scowled back, apparently not very affected. Heero knew the boy was warned, though. Calmly he retrieved the blindfold from the corner.

The second time Heero tried to put the blindfold on the slave, it stayed on. At least until Heero stepped away. With a snarl, Duo tore the thing off his head and then ripped it to shreds, glaring daggers as he let it fall to the ground.

Was this truly going to be another battle of wills? They both knew Heero wasn't going to be on the losing side. "Enough," he said and again he grabbed the slave's hair, near the roots. The slave barely let out a sound, but his face contorted in pain as Heero forced him to his knees. "You will accept it."

"Never." Through the pain the word was nearly growled out. Heero let go of the slave's hair to touch the crystal, forcing more pain upon the slave. It only lasted a few seconds, but the Shinigami fell further, catching himself on his hands and was panting by the time the pain was gone. Panting and glaring.

Heero had another piece of cloth he could use as a blindfold. He retrieved it and then moved to stand behind the slave, who had pushed himself back to his feet and was bent on not letting the master get behind him. Eventually, Heero had to twist the boy's arm behind his back to keep him still. He gathered the other arm and then bound them together by the shackles behind the boy's back. That would keep him from removing the blindfold a third time.

The Shinigami wasn't ready to be caught so easily. He actually managed to jump out of Heero's way, who then used the shackles to force the struggling slave back towards the wall. The Shinigami was glaring with all his might when Heero obstructed his vision a third time.

The young lord stood back to see if it sat right, but the boy began thrashing. Heero decided it was probably best to let him wear himself out. And calmly moved away, giving the boy just enough chain to stomp and kick without doing any damage to the furniture.

But the thrashing wouldn't let up. In fact, it only seemed to be getting worse. Several times the slave pulled his restraints so hard that he received a shock from the collar, but that did not stop him in the least. Oh, it would pause him for a moment, throwing him on his knees, but as soon as he had taken in two breaths he would continue, struggling back to his feet and trying something –anything- to get out of his chains.

The boy's thrashing started to worry Heero. The slave did not seem to have any strategy to his pushing and pulling and the frustrated snarls he let out were changing as well. He cautiously approached the slave, calling him by the name he had chosen, telling him to calm down. The slave didn't seem to hear, or if he did, he wasn't listening. Heero was just about to grab the boy, when an undirected kick hit him in his thigh. With a grunt he stepped back. As the boy was blindfolded, Heero could not see any expression and therefore he could not tell whether the boy was just angry or something else. Annoyed, he grabbed inside his pocket for the crystal, dealing out another shock of pain that lasted several seconds.

The boy was on his knees again and needed a little more than two breaths to regain himself, which was enough time for Heero to move behind him and grab him. At the first time of contact, though, Duo kicked back and his foot connected hard with Heero's leg.

"Duo, calm down!" Heero barely managed to remain standing and the boy's thrashing was threatening to make him fall down as well. Damn it, this reaction was nothing like he was expecting. It was almost as if he wasn't thinking at all anymore. Wild animal indeed.

The young lord could use his hands freely. He managed to get a decent enough grip on his slave and pulled the boy to his feet. With a struggling slave he had to hold tight to his chest to avoid any damage, it was hard to reach into his pocket to lengthen the chains, but he managed and pulled Duo towards the bed. For a moment he considered throwing the boy on the bed and holding him steady, but since he suspected this was no ordinary anger but rather a panic attack, he chose not to do that. Instead he held the boy tight while he sat down, pulling the thrashing slave in his lap. There he held him tight, keeping him from struggling too much.

"Duo, stop thrashing!" He ordered angrily. "I can't remove the blindfold if you keep this up!"

Duo didn't calm down. Heero actually had to repeat himself several times, assuring the boy that nothing was going to happen before the Shinigami showed any sign of calming down. Once Heero was fairly certain the boy wasn't going to continue kicking, the young lord dared remove one hand long enough to pull the blindfold off his slave's head.

The moment the thing was gone, the scene changed. Duo didn't exactly freeze, but he seemed to calm down considerably. Heero could see the eyes well enough now to see that he was right. The boy was shaking now and those eyes showed signs of utter terror.

Awkward as he felt, Heero continued holding the boy. "Calm down, Duo," he said, still somewhat commandingly. "It's gone now. Calm down."

Then the Shinigami did the strangest thing. He slumped. He slumped in his master's arms, letting his head fall onto Heero's shoulder. Not knowing what else to do, Heero just continued to hold him.

His father's lessons about handling slaves did not cover this kind of behaviour. They said what to do with slaves who disobeyed, they told him exactly how to deal with one that seemed adamant on fighting back hard, they told him how to give rewards for obedience. But the lessons did not contain any information on something like this. The complete panic the boy had gone through, the way he was leaning on him now, it made no sense. The slave just continued to confuse him. It was rather frustrating.

Heero let his mind go over his father's teachings. A slave was completely dependant on its master. That could, at some point, be frightening for the slave. It was up to the master to behave as if all was fine. Never should a slave be offered comfort, for, like a puppy that jumped at the sound of thunder, a slave needed to know that this was perfectly normal. If the master remained calm, the slave would eventually follow his example and be calm as well.

Heero didn't think that applied here. It might have applied if he had been the Shinigami's first master, or if the boy were younger, but this slave was obviously left with a trauma of some sort.

His father would have considered the boy damaged goods. Damaged slaves were to be returned, for they would never work well.

But one look at this shivering boy, so different from the true Shinigami he had seen on several occasions was enough to make Heero doubt it. So far the boy had not behaved against expectations. This was the first time he'd stumbled upon a situation where his father's instructions just wouldn't work. Did he really want to return the boy because he might never be able to handle the blindfold?

The answer was no.

Another thing he had once been told was that if you lived according to your emotions, you would not easily come to regret your chosen path. So often had he ignored that advice and he still regretted it even now. This time he was older. This time he knew what his emotions told him. They told him that he did not want to get rid of this boy no matter what the cost. No, he would just have to see this as another challenge. He would figure out a way to teach the boy to accept the blindfold, for it was something he definitely wanted to use for further training. A slave whose sight was removed had no other option than to completely rely on his master and for that he'd have to learn to trust him to quite some extent. It was imperative to gain this one's trust. Not his agreement perhaps, but definitely his trust.

"What am I going to do with you?" Heero wondered aloud. The boy did not answer, did not look up, but kept his face buried in Heero's shoulder, still shaking slightly.

"I'm going to unlock your arms now." He thought it might be smart to let the boy know, for he had to shift to do it. The force holding the boy's wrists together behind his back disappeared and the shackles were released. Duo just let his arms drop, only shifting enough to keep his balance.

Heero moved a hand to the slave's face, moving it from his shoulder. He wanted the boy to look at him, but Duo just pulled his face away, looking down to the floor instead.

"You're exhausted." It was still early, but the boy was finished for tonight. "Get some sleep." He helped him out of his lap and watched as the slave just walked back to his blankets and curled up in them, not sparing as much as a glance for his master.

-AOAO-

After the disastrous first try with the blindfold, it took Heero three weeks of intense work to get him to a point where he dared try it again. For three weeks Heero worked with the slave every night, commanding him to close his eyes and obey that way. The first week was met with quite some resistance, but the resistance had been at the usual level. That mainly meant he would try to see how long he could resist before the pain would be dealt out and then he would keep complaining about having to do this. The second week the complaining died down and he actually started to cooperate. But still, the boy was fearful. Only after three weeks did the boy actually keep his eyes closed throughout the entire session.

"I'm going to blindfold you." The boy's eyes widened in terror and he took a careful step back.

Heero looked at him warningly. "It's no different than our session last night," Heero said in what he hoped could be considered an assuring tone of voice. "Only this time it will be a piece of cloth that covers your eyes instead of your own eyelids. If you behave, I shall leave your hands free, so you can remove it yourself before you panic."

The boy did not look so certain. He had not spoken a word of the incident and Heero had not bothered him about it. "You can do this." He simply said. "If you leave it on until I remove it again, we will end this training for tonight."

The slave knew Heero didn't lie. The past weeks they had been training for hours each night. Every time Heero had made his intentions clear and he had never wavered from them. So now the boy could either make certain he was in control of his fear so he could get this session over with, or he could give in to the fear, remove the blindfold himself and they would continue training, quite possibly with the blindfold.

Heero deliberately said nothing of how long he would leave the blindfold on. The last week, he'd told the boy to keep his eyes closed for an hour, in which time he had made him do things. He had no intention of making this last as long. He doubted the boy could stand it for more than a few minutes and he did not want to scare him so much that another session with the blindfold would have to be put on hold for weeks again.

The boy was tense when Heero blindfolded him. Heero had made him kneel, as that position suggested submissiveness and he hoped a sense of submission would help make this easier on the boy. It seemed to work, for the slave accepted the blindfold, managing to stay calm even after Heero stepped away. The hands folding into fists did not go unnoticed, though.

He gave the slave a few seconds to get a grip on himself. The Shinigami put a hand to the piece of cloth over his eyes and for a moment Heero thought he was going to remove the thing, but the slave just fingered it, as if reassuring himself that he could indeed remove it at any time. Finally he dropped his arm behind his back to return to his submissive position and awaited orders.

"Stand up," Heero commanded. The boy obeyed, albeit much more slowly than he had in the previous sessions. Heero gave him simple orders, the same as he had in the previous nights. Turn to the right. Take two steps. Turn to the left. Take one step. Turn around. The boy obeyed carefully and Heero saw the tension grow. After a few minutes and several orders he said "Walk to my voice. I shall remove the blindfold when you are in front of me." The boy knew it to be true and he obeyed, slowly turning towards Heero, who said 'I'm here' every now and then to let the boy know he was going in the right direction. When he stood in front of him, Heero had him kneel and proceeded to remove the blindfold, as he had promised.

The boy was tense and his face stood hard, a guarded look plain in those young features. "You did well," Heero said. "We will continue tomorrow. For tonight we are done. Come." He let the chains fall away from the boy's shackles and collar and headed to the sitting room. There, some wine for the young lord and some milk for Duo would be waiting. They each took their own side of the couch –a habit that had snuck in and one that Heero was far too amused at to change. He'd made it clear, though, that this was not something he would permit if there were visitors around.

For a while they sat in silence. This evening's exercise, though short, had taken a lot from the boy and he'd never wanted Heero around while he recovered from the realisation that he had bent just a little further again. Heero wasn't sure the slave realised exactly what Heero was doing, though on some unconscious level the boy's body seemed to know every time the boy crawled into his blankets quietly and without looking at his master. If he needed time alone to get his head around why he had done as he'd been told, then Heero would let him have it. Another piece of advice his father had given him. Don't force yourself upon them when they've just gone further than they ever have before.

Heero was quite surprised when Duo spoke up. "Master?"

"Hmm?" He looked up from the book he'd placed there earlier.

"Can I..." The boy wasn't looking at him. "Can I sit closer?"

What was this? That was something Heero had not expected the boy to ask. He let his mind race over the question, wondering about the boy's intent. Did he want to try and steal the crystal again? With those chains off he might be able to remove the collar and shackles. And even if he weren't, Heero wouldn't be able to use the crystal to stop him if he ran away. "You may, if you move to the floor." From there he could not come near the crystal and it was the proper place for a personal slave anyway, on the floor at his master's feet.

The boy considered that and just when Heero thought he wasn't going to do it, Duo pushed himself off the couch onto the floor and quietly scooted closer to his master. Heero watched him with surprise. It was a good thing the boy wasn't looking up at him, for he doubted he looked very dominant at the moment.

The slave stopped when he was next to Heero's legs and it did not escape the young lord's notice that the slave's hand was touching his boot. It wasn't on top of it, it wasn't stroking it, it just touched.

Heero wondered about it. The boy had not been happy with the prospect of sitting at his master's feet, that much was clear. He was also in no position to steal the crystal. Then why had he moved anyway?

Could it be that he moved for the physical contact? Heero was aware that in a properly handled household slaves often formed friendships amongst themselves. They could even become quite loyal to one another, to a point where it could be a hindrance for the master. The same went for slaves that worked on the lands. Duo had nobody up here. The few times that Helen came by she reported that they had a nice chat and that Duo seemed quite friendly towards her. And Heero was sure that the slave girl Hilde that he'd caught up here the other day was also staying around longer than she had to. But neither came often and neither stayed long.

Heero was the only one Duo could rely on he'd see every day. He was the only one for the slave to talk to. He must be pretty lonely, which, of course, Heero was already exploiting to get the boy to behave. After all, the slave was well aware that if he ever wanted to be around other people again, he had to learn to cooperate. Could it be that he was so in need of physical contact that he would even turn to a master he despised so much?

Heero decided to test that theory. Carefully, he put a hand atop the boy's head. The slave stiffened immediately. Right, he was probably thinking Heero was going to hurt him by pulling his hair. That was the only time when Heero ever touched him there, after all. He had no intention of doing that this time, though. He just let his hand rest atop the boy's head. It didn't take long for the slave to realise that no reprimand or punishment was coming and slowly he relaxed. They sat like that for a while. Heero found that it was not an unpleasant feeling at all. Quite relaxing.

"Master?" The slave's gaze was directed at the floor.

"Yes?" He was becoming better at remembering how to address him.

"Why did you start calling me 'Duo'?" He asked. "What kind of name is that?"

Heero frowned at the question. "You don't like it?"

The slave shrugged. "It's not very masculine," he answered. "It sounds weak."

Heero just chuckled.

"Well?" The slave turned around to look up at his master. "Why did you pick that for a name?"

The young lord hesitated. He didn't have to explain, of course. He was always careful with which questions he chose to answer. But the boy had done well this evening and he did not think the answer to this particular question needed to be kept secret. Even so, he wasn't going to give it away for free. "If I answer you, then you must answer a question of mine."

The slave's eyes widened for a moment, then he frowned. "I'm a slave, remember?" He quipped, almost mockingly. "You can just make me answer anything."

"True," Heero told him. "But slaves can still lie. I want the truth."

The slave grinned that grin Heero had seen so many times before. It held no humour. It seemed rather malicious. "What makes you think I'll answer with the truth?"

"I'll trust your word."

Again a surprised look from the Shinigami. But he recovered quickly. "What's your question?"

Heero shook his head. Not that easy. "I want to know if we have a deal."

The slave did not appreciate that. "How the hell am I supposed to agree to something like that when I don't even know what your question's gonna be?"

"It's a personal question," Heero answered monotonously. "I will say no more." There was a definite note of finality in his voice. He knew the slave was well enough acquainted with him to recognise that.

Duo considered it for a long moment, then voiced his decision. "Alright. One honest answer from you for one honest answer from me. But you go first."

Trying to control the situation still? Very well. Heero would answer first. "You seem to have two personalities," he said. "On the one hand, there's the Shinigami, afraid of nothing and ready to fight anything. On the other hand there's this other personality, a more... compliant one. One that doesn't want to fight. It would rather be useful." That sounded reasonably right. "These personalities form a duo which is you. Without a decent portion of either, correctly balanced, you would be someone completely different."

The boy listened carefully to his explanation. Heero couldn't read if he was pleased with the answer, but he didn't think so by the tone of the slave's voice "That's how you see me?" He seemed disappointed. Or perhaps it was just something he had never considered for himself.

"Yes." The simple truth.

"Sounds like something _he_ said once." It was muttered and Heero wasn't sure he was meant to catch that.

"What was that?"

The slave scowled up at him. "Well, it's a load of crap."

Heero pulled a strand of Duo's hair as a warning for his choice of words, but did no more than that. "Now you have to answer my question."

The boy looked up at him with a guarded expression and crossed his arms. "Which is?" He asked expectantly.

"Who's Solo?"

The boy blinked, then scowled hard. "How do you know that name?" he nearly demanded. "Where did you get it?" A personal question indeed, it seemed.

"You talk in your sleep."

"No I don't." The slave refuted sulkily, still scowling.

"You do. Now stop avoiding the question and answer it." He had promised, after all.

The slave sighed and he turned away from his master. "Just someone I met at a time when I wasn't a slave."

Heero considered that. The boy's records had gaps, especially in his early years. Could well be they came from times where he managed to actually escape and evade capture for a while. He thought about asking more, but then he knew he wasn't going to get any more than he had. And he supposed it was fair. If he'd wanted more, he should have phrased his question more carefully. Therefore, he decided to just leave it. For now at least.

* * *

princess/rlyblue

So, Trowa is set on leaving the castle. I'm sorry for the 3x4 lovers, but I just couldn't seem to make them work. Also, looks like Duo has some trauma's from his past and Wu Fei doesn't understand the concept of slavery.

Also, my beta reader asked if I'd read Game of Thrones. It's been on my to read/ to see list for a while but I haven't got to it yet. I got the idea for Wu Fei thinking the braid was a status symbol from the Japanese samurai top knot.

As for the question: Does any of you have a good idea for a dstory title? I don't really like the title 'Challenging hope' but I can't come up with something fitting. So, if you have a good idea, please let me know. I'd make it into a contest, but I don't really have a prize to give away.


	13. 12: Turns of the tide

Thanks in previous chapters. Warnings: non really

* * *

12: Turns of the tide

He wouldn't take much. Most of what he needed, he would buy on the road. He was going north all by himself and he did not wish to take more than one horse. Therefore, things like clothes appropriate for the north would be bought later. Up there they most likely had better clothing suited for the environment as well. So as it was, Trowa had packed the map towards the north, one change of clothes, a travel tent –villages were fewer in the north of Elfor and he would not be able to reach a town or village each day- and some basic sleeping and cooking gear. For personal items he only took his money and his flute.

He'd bought a horse last week, one that was strong and healthy, with a thick enough coat to make it in the north. He could see that the horse was used to travelling. It just had its shoes replaced, so there should be no problems for a while.

Trowa had a good sense of animals. He was quite certain that the stallion he'd bought would be able to carry him and the few things he brought along for his journey. The horse had a kind personality, one that reminded him of Prince Quatre. But his physique was strong and even as the horse stepped in a relaxing fashion, he looked impressive. Trowa just knew when he saw the horse that it was the one for him and the stallion had accepted him easily enough at the first try. It had cost quite a bit, but the horse had been more than worth it.

"You're absolutely certain that you want to do this?" Crown Prince Quatre stood in his doorway, watching him check his gear one more time before he would retire. "It's not too late to change your mind, you know."

"As I said before, this is something I have to do." Almost every day since Trowa had informed his former master that he would be leaving, Prince Quatre had tried to stop him. He gave plenty of reasons why Trowa shouldn't go –quite a few of them could be seen as valid reasons- but Trowa just knew this was something he had to do. He felt it inside. Why the prince, an empath, of all people, couldn't seem to understand that was a mystery to him.

Prince Quatre had apologised for his behaviour that first night. He apologised for shouting at him, he apologised for that multiple times even, but never for what he had actually said. Trowa knew that had been deliberate, for the prince truly believed that his servant was making the biggest mistake in his life by going to the north, where the country was ruled by magic.

"I just don't understand. Why won't you listen to reason?" By that, of course, the prince meant his own reasoning.

By now the former slave was really tired of hearing those arguments. The prince just didn't want to watch him go. Lately Trowa was beginning to think the heir apparent might be regretting setting him free, for it meant that he had no choice but to let him go. And as kind as the prince's personality was, he was not used to not getting what he wanted. He was a strong politician and sometimes Trowa wondered if there was anyone who could stand up to the future monarch of Elfor. Even the king faltered when Quatre was opposed to something. But this had nothing to do with politics. This was Trowa's personal life and therefore his personal decision. And having witnessed the prince's manipulations time and time again these past years, Trowa had grown accustomed to Quatre's ways.

"Please, Prince Quatre, I really don't want to argue over this again." Why couldn't the prince see that he was not going to change his mind? Three weeks ago, Trowa had hoped they could part on better terms, but it looked like this was as good as he was going to get.

"I thought you liked it here." The prince pressed a hand to his own chest and Trowa could see he was hurting for real. "You had a good life. I gave you everything you needed and more. Didn't I?" The prince wasn't faking. Trowa knew he could fake if he deemed it necessary, but this was real. From the bottom of his heart, the crown prince did not want to watch him go.

Having determined that everything was packed, Trowa stood up and walked over to his former master and lover. "You have." He said quietly, moving a hand to touch the prince's cheek. "I will be eternally grateful. Without you, my life could have been so much worse."

"Then why?" Quatre looked up, taking Trowa's hand and their eyes met.

"Because it's time for me to leave the nest." It was the only answer he could offer that might give Quatre some insight. Trowa had been well taken care of since coming to the castle, but it was time for him to spread his wings and see if the wind would allow him to ride it on his own.

"Trowa..."

"I don't know what I'll find where I'm going." Trowa said. "I don't know if I can come back. But I'll keep the memories of my prince close to me. I hope he can do the same in return."

"I just..." Quatre seemed to rethink what he was going to say, then continued. "I'll always keep you close to my heart." He sounded more defeated than anything. But Trowa was glad the prince decided not to fight on their last parting. Trowa would leave early tomorrow morning, he'd be up before dawn and the prince would not be able to see him off. It would not be proper. That meant that this was their final goodbye.

* * *

The house of the Yuy family had quite an impressive library. Master Wu Fei of Chang found that he enjoyed spending time there. It was a quiet place, where he could meditate uninterrupted in the early mornings. The fire seemed to be lit at any time of the day and night and the shelves held enough books regarding the history of these people to keep him occupied for quite some time. Wu Fei found that he was becoming quite adept at reading this barbarian language, where letters were strung together to make words rather than just having a single symbol per word. He could even see the benefit of this method, as twenty-six characters was a lot easier to learn than a thousand. Of course, it was another mark to how lazy these people could be.

The library was also the place where Wu Fei tended to meet with Lord Heero Yuy. It was here that he found they had the most fruitful conversations. When the lord was in his study he was at work and when he was in his own quarters he preferred his private time, but when he came here, he just wished to relax and he seemed to enjoy a good conversation. Here the man showed the patience to explain things to Wu Fei, here was where they could have discussions about the strange ways of these people. It was here that he had realised that Wu Fei's own ways were as strange to the lord as the ways of these people were to him. This room was definitely one of his more favourable spots in the house.

He also enjoyed the elder Lord Yuy's dining room at dinner time. It was the only place where he had a chance of escaping that strange potatoes food that just kept feeling like dirt in his mouth. The elder master seemed to appreciate a much broader palate than his son did. The younger lord rarely joined them for dinner and the tension between father and son did not escape him. It was just another one of those things these people did not care for when it came to guests. They never bothered to hide their true feelings. Their dislike for each other was plain, even though their spoken words were never disrespectful towards one another.

It was one of those mornings where the western master had chosen to occupy the library to focus on this land's history. He'd been surprised to find records regarding their dragon slaying in the first place, but the facts these books spoke of were just wrong. It was clear the people of this land knew little of dragons and even less of magic. Of course, he had known it was forbidden here, but that they actually believed it sprang from a source of evil seemed just too strange for the foreign master to understand. Where had they found any proof to indicate such a powerful statement?

He would not find out today, though. The door between the library and the hallway opened and the young Lord Yuy stepped in. But this time he was not alone. This time he was followed by that barbarian boy Wu Fei had met only once before, when he'd been called a savage.

Wu Fei still did not understand slavery. He'd had several discussions with the young lord regarding their usefulness and with the elder lord as well, but somehow neither seemed able to explain in a way he could wrap his mind around why there needed to be a difference between servants and slaves if they both occupied the same working classes.

"Do you mind if I join you?" The lord always asked when Wu Fei was already occupying the library.

"Not at all." He answered, marking the book and putting it aside. Apparently in this case 'I' involved the slave as well, for they both entered the room.

Wu Fei of Chang watched as the lord grabbed the slave's arm and said something Wu Fei could not hear to the slave's ear. The slave tensed and his eyes narrowed, but he did not reply as he was led further into the room, following Lord Yuy, who occupied the chair opposite of Wu Fei.

"Kneel." The order was short and accompanied by a nod to the floor. The slave obeyed, albeit not very happily, lowering himself to his knees and putting his hands behind his back. The lord put a hand on the boy's head and found a strand that had come loose from the braid to play with.

It was still a strange sight to Wu Fei, seeing someone with such a long braid being treated in such a strange way. Perhaps he should inquire about that.

"What are you reading?" A simple opening the lord often used. Wu Fei had learned quickly that this man was not very good at meaningless politeness. His father was much better at that.

"I was studying how your people regard magic," Wu Fei answered. "Is it true you believe magic to be the 'source of evil'?"

"It is the common belief," the lord answered.

"I see." The foreign master frowned. "That does not sound as if you share their opinion?"

The lord shrugged. "Magic is older than mankind," he answered. "I know very little of it."

He sounded almost evasive. But then it was understandable. One of the first things the book explained was that practising magic was punishable by death. Still, he wished to learn more and therefore decided to ask another question.

"The book claims that magic was outlawed only by the current ruler. If this belief is as strong as the book makes it out to be, why was it not outlawed before?"

For a moment Wu Fei's eyes fell on the kneeling slave who yawned widely and shifted a little. The lord's hand tensed on the string of hair. Was it because of the question or because of the slave's movement? Wu Fei could not tell. This was only the second time he met the barbarian's slave, but the lord seemed more tense than usual. Still, that could just be the topic Wu Fei had picked for their discussion. He would have to be careful not to advocate in favour of magic.

"The Winner house brings about changes in steps," Heero Yuy started, considering his words. "They know that banning something out of the blue will cause problems for many and therefore they first forbid some, to gradually increase the ban. Before the use of magic was banned, dragons were chased away and before that keeping magical pets, including dragons, was already forbidden."

Wu Fei considered that. It seemed logical. Back home changes were far fewer than they seemed to be in this land, the people preferring a more traditional life. What changes were made were always met by some retaliation. The bigger the change, the broader the retaliation.

"Perhaps I have not reached the part yet, but so far your book does not seem to reach an explanation for the conclusion that magic is evil." Wu Fei had learned completely different. Magic could be dangerous, yes. That was why only certain priests and temple lords were allowed to use it back home, but to call it evil just seemed to go too far.

"It is not often discussed." Could it be the lord felt uncomfortable speaking if it? But to Wu Fei's surprise, Heero Yuy continued. "It is rumoured that the Royal Family had some bad encounters with magic. One queen, apparently, was killed by it. Another royal child had been maimed in an act of revenge. You will not find such details in a book, of course."

It was in the power of the rulers to decide the laws and therefore the banning of magic now made a lot more sense. Still, one more question burned in Wu Fei's mind. His people was a clan of warriors, after all "Do they not fear invasion from countries that do use magic?" He asked slowly. "I understand that to the north magic is practised quite a bit."

"To the north are now several small nations, none of them very stable and all of them relying on Elfor for import. Even if they have magic, attempting an invasion would be disastrous for them," Heero explained. "The last war between Elfor and the North expanded Elfor, pushing the borders up quite a bit. Many Northerners were taken as prisoners of war and their second and third generations now serve in slavery."

"I see." Wu Fei glanced at the slave by his master's feet. "Is he a descendant from the Northerners?"

The slave in training suddenly looked up, well aware that they were speaking of him now. So he had been following their conversations after all. Again the lord's grip on the slave's hair tightened and the slave remained silent as Heero spoke. "Northerners tend to have lighter hair and eyes. This one was found in the streets when he was a small boy. We had three years of failing crops in a row. It is likely he is an orphan from that time."

The slave frowned and tried to turn to look at his master, but Lord Heero put his hand on the boy's head, preventing it. Saying nothing, the slave gave up and settled for scowling at Wu Fei's feet instead. It was quite intriguing witnessing how these two worked together. It was obvious this servant was still being trained. "He was found as a boy?" Wu Fei asked. "And he has been a slave all this time?" Both questions were answered affirmative. "Then how did he earn his braid?"

"Earn his braid?" The lord seemed uncertain what Wu Fei meant. Where he came from everyone would know exactly what he meant. A braid was a sign of earned respect. Perhaps in this country... "The braid. It is not a sign of achievement?"

Heero looked at the mass of hair that was neatly held back, but when he fingered it, the slave tensed. "The braid keeps his hair neat and out of his face." He said matter-of-factly.

"Oh." Right. It did not indicate stature of any kind. Strange. "When I travelled through Sanc kingdom many men showed long hair. Here he seems to be one of the few." In fact he had not seen anyone with hair so long in this country, not a lord, servant or slave. In his own country there were many women with long hair, but they never wore it loose and of course, they never even thought about braiding it.

"It does not seem to be the current fashion for men to have long hair." The lord was still fingering the braid and the slave was still scowling. Did it make him uncomfortable to be discussed? Normally Wu Fei would not bother to discuss workers, but in this country everything seemed to work so different and he was here to learn and understand. Still, in his country a servant who showed anger as clear as this one was would certainly be disciplined. He wondered if this slave would be disciplined and how that worked, but he figured it might be better to ask that when the boy was not around. It was unnecessary humiliation to speak of such things in front of the servant.

He was about to ask how people in this country did recognise great warriors if not by the hairstyle they donned, when the door to the library opened and the butler came in. The name was one Wu Fei had quite some trouble pronouncing and therefore he managed to avoid it most of the time. The butler seemed to hesitate when he saw the room was occupied by three rather than one or two, but he bowed and announced breakfast was ready to be served. Lord Yuy let him know that he would be there shortly and Wu Fei of Chang answered the same.

When the butler had gone, Heero stood up. "You will join me for breakfast?" He asked the foreign guest, who nodded.

"I shall go change." Another one of those things. These people seemed to wear the same attire all day. They did not seem to have different clothing for different meals. It was something the master of Chang was not going to get used to anytime soon.

"Very well." He said. "I shall see you there." He barely turned to the slave, but his voice changed to that of authority when he said "Follow." The slave stood up –none too graciously as he put his hands on the floor to push himself up- and obeyed, looking petulant.

* * *

That had not gone too bad, Heero thought as he led the slave upstairs. Wu Fei's presence had been unexpected, but Duo had not said a word as he had been instructed to upon entering. Still, he had tried to move and no doubt had been giving indignant looks.

"So, did I pass your test, Master?"

Despite the fact that he had expected worse from this one, Heero answered with a short "Barely."

"Just barely?" He sounded almost insulted. "I did what you said. Didn't say a word, did I?"

"There's more to proper etiquette than remaining silent." Heero knew the slave had at one point been trained enough to know this. "Come here." He said, picking up one of the chains to restrain him again. Duo obeyed and though he did not actually offer his hand, he did not resist when Heero took it. As with everything, the slave had tested him on this point and as with every test he had conducted he had found the consequences to be quite painful.

"Every master wants something else," the boy defended himself with a shrug.

"That doesn't change the general rules," Heero answered. "They do not contain fidgeting nor scowling nor yawning."

The slave said nothing until the chain to his collar was attached. "He thought I had somehow 'earned' my braid." Heero looked up to see Duo reach behind his back to grab the mass of hair and pulled the braid over his shoulder.

"It would seem that his customs are much different from ours."

"What's he still doing here anyway?" Heero raised an eyebrow at the indignant tone the slave allowed to accompany the question. Duo looked up from his braid when he received no answer. The look his master gave him made him sigh. "Why is he here, Master?" He rephrased with some more respect.

Heero did not have to answer, of course. This one seemed to be asking many questions and Heero left quite a few unanswered. But he also had not forbidden the questions. He found that he liked the slave's interest. "He was sent here to study our culture. Apparently it is a tradition amongst his people." Heero wanted to keep this boy's spirit in tact and with how much he would be making him bend, he thought giving him room to ask might alleviate the stress a little. Of course, he would not be allowed such freedom in the company of others.

"How long will he be staying?"

"As long as he will," the lord simply answered. "He's not a threat to you," he added as an afterthought. "He simply does not quite understand the concept of servants and slaves. He wishes to learn."

"Huh, a savage that wishes to learn." The boy moved to sit at his spot by the wall, on top of his blankets.

"Do not call him that again." It was a clear order. "He is my guest. You will pay him the proper respects."

The boy looked up, but knew better than to challenge the order. "You gonna let him use my ass?"

"Perhaps." Heero answered. "But if I do, you will know before he touches you."

"And if he touches without you telling me?" The slave continued. At times he seemed obsessed with the subject of being used.

"You will comply and report to me as soon as you can," the lord replied impatiently. The boy knew this already, for it had been discussed before.

"So you'd just let him use me."

"Duo." It nearly came out as a growl. Heero's eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to his slave. He hunkered down towards the same height as the boy, which made the chained one look up. "You will not cause injury to yourself or anyone else. I deal with trespassers as I see fit."

The slave's eyes narrowed at that as well and he pushed himself back to the wall. "So I'd have to just let anyone use me."

Damn the boy, why did he refuse to see? "You are mine now." Heero said, reaching out and cupping the boy's chin. "I do not let anyone get away with harming my property. I assure you they are aware of that as well. So long as you are mine, you will not have to kill anyone again." The boy was still scowling, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Heero tightened his grip. "Not another word." He said and the boy seemed to comply.

Heero stood up and turned towards the door. "Breakfast will be up soon."

* * *

He wished he did not have to go, but this could not be put off any longer. There was some dispute between several farmers and the local lord, Lord Broden, regarding taxes they had to pay. The disagreement had come to a point where Heero felt his presence was absolutely required. Though the land was only two days riding away and thus Heero would be gone for a week at most, he did not fancy leaving the Shinigami in someone else's care for such a long time. Unfortunately, he had no choice. The slave was just not ready to be taken along.

Someone who was ready to come along was Wu Fei Chang. Prince Quatre had promised him that Heero would show him around the country, but so far he had not found the time to arrange that yet. This little trip was a good enough opportunity and the foreign lord had quickly accepted the invitation to join Heero. He had arranged that for the time the lord needed to settle this argument someone would be there to take care of the lord of Chang.

Heero was well aware of the slave watching him as he emptied the saddle bags he planned to take. He said nothing, just continued to place the items on the dresser. The slave could reach the dresser with the length of his chains and he edged closer to watch. Heero let him. He was not obstructing him.

When Heero began considering the clothes he would need the coming week, the slave spoke. "You leaving or something?"

"Yes." Heero considered how much formal wear he needed to take. He hoped he could wrap things up in one day, but experience told him he'd better pack for three. His position required a fresh set of rich clothing each day. Better take the blue and green ones then.

He could have asked Geoffrey to lay out the clothes for him, but the butler and the Shinigami were not exactly the best of friends. He could have retracted the chains completely, of course. The butler would not have attacked the boy and the slave might even have remained silent had Heero told him to, but he just did not want to risk it. Besides, this was a fine opportunity to see how much the slave knew of clothing and travelling.

"I will be travelling for four days," Heero spoke, turning to the slave. "I'll need clothing for that as well as three formal wears. The light blue, the dark blue and the green. Lay out for me what I need to pack."

Heero stood back to watch as Duo moved to the closet. "What are you gonna be doing, Master?" He asked, turning around to look at Heero.

"Get to work."

"Gee, you're in a good mood today," the slave mumbled turning back and Heero considered punishing him for that. The slave started gathering clothes, though. Strangely enough he started with what Heero would need for travelling. As the formal part was more important, it would have been logical to start with those clothes, but Heero decided to wait and see what the boy would lay out.

"Gonna be sleeping in tents or buildings?"

"Buildings." Heero answered and the slave nodded and laid out several sets of clothing for day and nightwear. The slave took a while to consider the different items of clothing and Heero was pleased to see he was also selecting jewellery. He let him work and when the slave was finished and stood back, Heero walked over to the bed.

The lord picked up most of the travelling clothes and threw them to the side. "Too rich." He said. "I prefer travelling lightly." He did not need to show off his position. They could see he was a lord by the mantle he wore and he did not need to attract the wrong crowd by letting them know he was one of the highest and richest lords in town.

Then he moved to the formal clothing. These seemed almost complete. "Add the gold wrist cuffs." He said simply. "And I'll need shoes."

That left only one set of clothing, an older piece his father had told him to get once. It had extravagant breeches and the coat had sleeves that were extremely wide. The sleeveless surcoat was red and adorned with intricate gold embroidery. The hat that accompanied it was long and pointy at the brim and a belt decorated with gold and pearls was laid out as well. "What is this?"

"It's for nightly pleasures, of course." Duo answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Hn." Heero took the clothing and threw it on the pile of discarded travelling clothes. "I won't be visiting whores." He said simply. "Try again."

The boy seemed to understand what Heero meant by travelling light. He picked out travelling clothes that stood out much less and found the right cuffs and shoes for the formal wear as well. Heero looked over the set that was laid out for him now. Better. He exchanged the shoes for a pair he preferred. "I will leave early tomorrow morning." He informed the slave. "Lay out a set for travelling and pack the rest in the saddle bags. I will need only one travelling cloak."

All in all it was not bad for a first attempt. The boy had no way of knowing how rich the lord preferred to travel and had taken the safe bet in laying out the richer clothes. Had he wanted to travel rich while the servant laid out poorer clothing, it would have been an insult, after all.

"Helen will be looking after you while I am gone," Heero informed the slave. "I suggest you behave." He'd already decided that Helen's report over the next week would decide how Heero would proceed. If Duo behaved, Heero would consider removing the chains for an extended period. The collar and cuffs, of course, would remain. Aside from their use in punishing the Shinigami and to keep him under control, they also fit with the black clothing the boy wore.

The lord sat down in his comfortable chair and watched as the boy finished packing. He'd come such a long way from when he'd bought him, a good four months ago now. The wild beast he'd seen those first weeks had gone for the most part, leaving behind a spirited young man who'd grudgingly come to accept that life in the Yuy household was not as bad as it could have been.

When did the change commence? Did it start when the boy decided to work for earning decent food? Was it when Heero gave him that knife and the opportunity to use it against him? Or was it when Heero told him the origins of his nickname? Or perhaps it really was as simple as Heero keeping his promises either way.

How much trust had he gained? Nearly every evening that Heero finished business early they worked on Duo accepting the blindfold. The boy remained nervous, but he usually left it on. And Heero enjoyed the moments afterwards where he would remove the restraints and the two of them would retire in Heero's adjoining sitting chamber. He especially liked it when the boy chose to sit on the floor near Heero's feet. Duo never fully put a hand on Heero, but there seemed to be a need to touch. It was something Heero did not quite understand. He was not raised with affection and he was not using affection to train the boy. It was a foreign concept to him and yet the boy seemed to relax after a few moments even when he did something as simple as resting a hand on Duo's head.

Perhaps he should find time to discuss that with the Quatre. The prince might understand. He'd often spoken fondly of his manservant's reaction to affection.

"Master?" Duo's voice shook him out of his line of thought. "Anything else, Master?"

Heero saw the boy had finished packing the saddle bags. "No, that is all. Put them next to the door." Servants would carry them down in the morning. Tonight he would retire early.

* * *

princess/rlyblue

Hope you liked this chapter! Not much to say aboutit really.

How I came to the title... Well, basically because Heero buys the Shinigami as a challenge but Duo learns to find hope for a better life than he's had so far. Also, Trowa faces a challenge when he's set free and with freedom comes hope. I spent the whole time I was writing this trying to come up with a good title, but I just couldn't find one. For the chapters titles were easy, but for the story as a whole? I actually called it '001 fiction' until the day I decided to post it and then I just threw something in. The notes for the sequel are under the name '002 fiction'. But really, I still think the title sucks and any suggestions, or any word(s) you think describes the story would really help me out.


	14. 13: Progress

And another friday brings you another chapter!

Guest: Desire and defiance is getting closer to a good title... Defiant desire? Try saying that ten times... What does reverie mean? (English isn't my first language)

NekoA1: Promises kept sounds like a good chapter title, but I'm not sure it's broad enough to cover a whole story. I'm not sure it's challenging enough. But the 'promise' part might be something to work with.

jj: It's not Duo that's getting attacked this chapter...

Warnings: violence, fighting, mention of death penalty.

Thanks can be found in previous chapters!

* * *

13: Progress

The baby was doing well. Little Katherine was barely four months old but she had already nearly doubled in weight and length. The Winner household's private doctors kept a close eye on the young princess' progress and at times that made Relena feel as if she were being judged as well. Though, of course, they did not directly address her when they said the princess needed to eat more, but Relena was well aware of the duties her position held. She only spent so much time with the baby, but if something happened to her, she knew who would ultimately take the blame.

As if she were going to allow something to happen to her daughter.

Especially the head of the cluster gave Relena an eerie feeling. Doctor H. seemed to know what he was doing, but somehow the fat man just never seemed entirely pleased. He was especially displeased with Relena insisting she feed her own baby. In Sanq this was considered normal, but here for some reason people thought she'd need a wet-nurse for that. An upper-class lady breastfeeding was considered improper here. Relena disagreed. Quatre had advocated for her side, but only after Relena promised she'd only feed in private. Since she'd been looking forward to this part of being a mother, the princess had agreed.

Careful not to make the baby lose the nipple, Relena shifted to lean to the other side. The baby continued drinking undisturbed.

The door opened quietly and Relena smiled as her husband walked in.

"Oh, my apologies," he said when he saw her there and started to retreat.

"Please, stay," Relena said quickly. "I was hoping to run into you today." It was for that reason she had been a bit late late coming to feed her daughter.

Quatre hesitated, but then stepped back inside to join his wife and daughter, kissing both lightly on the head. A bit awkward he knelt by the chair to watch. "She resembles her mother."

"You think?" Relena answered, looking down at the child.

"Definitely," Quatre stated. "She has your eyes."

"And your nose," Relena replied thoughtful.

"She might be lucky and grow out of that."

Relena chuckled. "Don't sell yourself short, my husband," she chided playfully. "You are not bad looking." The crown prince just sighed and said nothing. Relena studied him for a moment before she inquired, "What's been going on with you? You have been dispirited for days."

"You noticed?" Quatre smiled weakly, but kept his eyes on the child. "I'm sorry. It's nothing you should worry about."

"If something is wrong with my husband, how can I support him if he does not speak to me?" Relena asked simply.

"It's alright," the prince answered. "I'll get over it quickly."

"Please let me help." Relena waited, but when Quatre still said nothing, she spoke up again. "If this is about a certain manservant leaving your service, I promise I will not be angry with you."

The prince looked up at that. "You noticed, huh?" He acknowledged sadly. "I'm sorry, I should not be affected so much. You are my wife. You deserve better."

"And you are my husband," she countered. "And I wish I could give you the passion and lust you deserve from a wife, but we both knew when we accepted the marriage that it would not be." It was really as simple as that. Quatre frowned uncertainly at those words, which encouraged Relena to continue. "Trowa was your everything. I would like to know what happened."

"The trouble is I'm not certain." Quatre stood up and walked to the window. For a moment Relena watched him as he gazed outside. "I thought we were more than just master and slave. I thought we were friends. We worked so well together."

Relena nodded even though her husband could not see. She was no fool. She'd noticed the unique dynamics between them when that manservant served. She had been trained to spot such things. "What changed?"

"I set him free." Relena had heard the rumours but had not inquired. "It changed everything." Quatre turned to face Relena and his expression startled her. "I can't believe how I could have miscalculated the situation so much. I should see all possibilities, it's what I do. It's what I'm good at. But I never saw his departure coming. I believed I... I believed he was happy here."

"But he was not?"

"Why would he have left if he was happy here?" Quatre argued.

Relena had never spoken with the young man, but she knew a thing or two about servants. If this Trowa had been really unhappy, she did not think he would have done such a good job for his master. "In my country it is said that if you want a bird very much, you should set him free, let him fly off. If he returns, it means he wants to be with you and he will be yours."

Quatre considered her words for a moment. "Except that he can't ever return," he replied sadly. "He's gone to the North to seek out magic. If he finds it, then by law he may not set foot in Elfor again."

Little Katherine stopped drinking and Relena cleaned the baby's mouth and her own breast. "Do you not know the advantage of being king?" She asked him softly. "It means you have the power to change the laws."

He looked at her sharply. "And what? Allow magic?" He asked. "It is because we banned that evil that we have a stable country."

"Funny," Relena remarked, "I always thought this country was stable because of your grandfather's political tactics and your father's courage to keep his promises."

"It was my grandfather's tactics which chased away the dragons and my father's resolve which outlawed sorcerers," Quatre countered. Without that I am certain we would not be enjoying the peace we have. Magic corrupts."

Relena set Katherine in her lap and smiled at the baby. "All forms of power can corrupt." She sounded as if she was speaking to the child rather than to her husband.

"Surely you don't believe magic is not evil." The prince crossed his arms. "I've had the best tutors in the country and they all believed the same."

"Those tutors were also hired by your father, who very much believes all magic is evil." Relena stood up, carrying her daughter in one arm. "I cannot say I am well-versed in the subject of magic, but I was once touched by a healer when I was on the brink of death." In her home country magic was not outlawed. "He saved my life. That I know. Tell me, am I evil?"

She had never revealed that story to him and watched as he frowned. "He could just as easily have been the one to make you ill. He could have killed you if it suited him."

"My nurse can spike my food and make me ill. She can take a knife to attempt to kill me."

"She is not corrupted by magic," was his refute.

"She could be corrupted by a promise of coin."

"You don't understand!" Quatre sounded exasperated like she had never seen him before. "Coin, gold, power, all of that can be controlled. It need not lead you down a path of darkness. But the source of magic is evil. Once you start playing with it, you'll have no choice but to become evil. And then look at what it does. It killed my mother."

"Magic comes at a price. Your mother gave her life so this country could have an heir," Relena said calmly. "Your mother sacrificed herself so you could live." She could see her husband started to speak, but instead she held Katherine out towards him, facing him. The baby swayed her hands and feet. "Tell me, Quatre. Is she evil?"

"Of course not," he answered. "What..."

"She is a descendant of sorcerers," Relena said matter-of-factly. "Your grandmother from your father's side and my great-grandfather from my mother's side were both skilled in magic. It's been known to skip generations. What if some of that were passed on to her? What if she has magic running through her veins? Will you let her become an outlaw?" Quatre hesitated. "Look at your daughter, Prince of Elfor and tell me she will be evil no matter what."

"Relena!" Quatre scowled at his wife past the baby.

"I thought you were raised with enough sense to think for yourself," Relena said, pulling the baby back to her shoulder to allow the child to burp. "But all I heard from you just now were the words of Zayeed Winner. You have not a single original thought when it comes to magic, do you?"

"Relena." The name was spoken more softly this time.

"Trowa was much more to you than just a friend, wasn't he?" Relena did her best to keep the pang of jealousy out of her voice. "Doesn't he at least deserve your personal opinion?"

* * *

The younger Lord Broden was quite an interesting man. While Lord Yuy and the elder

Lord Broden spoke with the farmers, Wu Fei was invited by the younger lord to ride the country. This Broden was only a few years older than Wu Fei was but he was well educated on several subjects. He explained to Wu Fei how the system governing the farmers worked. Apparently all the land in Elfor belonged to the king. The king would lend pieces of land to noble houses who, in their turn, allowed farmers to work it. The farmers paid taxes to the nobles and part of those taxes returned to the king. That was the simple basis on which the system was built.

The system was different from the way the clans ruled in the west. Wu Fei's clan also contained land where farmers worked, but in their system all they reaped was brought to the master of the clan, who would divide it. There were no nobles to govern the farmers. The master ruled all. He had important people in various positions such as advisors, but no-one with as much freedom as the nobles in this land had, let alone the kind of freedom the Yuy household seemed to enjoy.

The younger Lord Broden insisted on accompanying Lord Yuy and Master Chang back home. He had business in the capital which he needed to take care of. Wu Fei did not mind. In those two and a half days they had spent on the Broden lands he had come to appreciate the company of the Broden lord. He found the man interesting in a completely different manner than the Yuy lord and the kind of humour this man followed suited the master of Chang as well.

Where Lord Yuy had taken two servants –one for himself and one to serve Wu Fei- Lord Broden took none. Wu Fei understood that the Broden family, which ran five farms was just a minor family. Still they contained a sense of pride and dignity Wu Fei certainly knew how to appreciate. It was that same sense of pride, however, which seemed occasionally to irritate the young Lord Yuy, who appreciated practicality above all.

The road they were travelling was a simple dirt road. After passing through a small town about a day's ride from the capital the stone paved roads ended to make way for roads like these. The landscape mainly consisted of small hills, nothing compared to the mountains that surrounded the territory of the clan of Chang and Wu Fei found himself wishing for those large, snow-covered shapes blocking the horizon that had always been present when he'd grown up. As a child he had very much enjoyed climbing the mountains as high as he dared and look over the lands that belonged to his people. Meditation at the top of a mountain was much more efficient than it was in a valley.

Every now and then they met some travellers along the roads. They were mainly merchants, driving their wares from one town to another. They shouted out what they sold long before they passed, in case anyone was interested in their foods, clothing or fabrics, which were apparently most common. Farmers were mostly seen travelling in the early morning or late afternoon. Their simple, dirt-stained clothing gave them away immediately.

It was for that reason that Wu Fei frowned at the upcoming party. He was riding in the back of their column of five with Broden when he spotted them. A man and a woman were travelling with a wagon indicating they were a merchant's couple, but their woollen clothing did not quite fit the description. There were tears in the woman's dress and the man's sleeves and pants contained dirty spots. The wagon had only one horse pulling it and it seemed to labour at that. They made an odd couple and Wu Fei wondered if they were doing well at all. They also did not try to draw their attention by shouting out their wares, in fact they hardly seemed to notice them at all.

Soon enough Wu Fei found out why they behaved so oddly.

Both parties made way for each other to pass, but at the last moment, the cart driver suddenly pulled on the reigns with a shout, causing the horses to steer sideways. The cart blocked the road and the man and woman jumped off the cart, pulling knives. The man shouted something, but a servant shrieking "Bandits!" was all Wu Fei could hear. From the back of the cart two other men jumped down and behind them, from the small bushes, two more appeared, all were bearing weapons.

Without thinking twice, Wu Fei jumped down from his horse. Slow. He hit the first man in the neck with the side of his hand. The man was thrown back and knocked out immediately. These people were so slow. He moved on to the second man that had come up behind him. The man took a swing at Wu Fei with his knife, but the swing was wide. Wu Fei easily evaded the weapon and crouched low, kicking the feet out from under the man with a round kick. The man fell to the ground, losing his weapon. Wu Fei reached for his belt and easily found his own blade. With lightning speed he brought it down on the other man's throat.

"Master Chang, No!"

The mention of his title was all that stopped the knife just short of penetrating the bandit's throat. Wu Fei left the knife hanging there as he looked up. A quick glance showed that Lord Yuy was also off his horse and had one of the robbers cowering at the point of his sword. The other men were running off, one of them on the horse he had apparently cut loose from the wagon, leaving the cart behind.

"You must not kill him." Broden was still seated on his horse and looking down at Wu Fei.

"Why not?" Wu Fei asked annoyed.

"Killing is not permitted in this land."

What? "They attacked us." That alone should give him the right to decide their fates, not to mention that as noblemen they stood well above the other casts.

"Even so." Broden now climbed down from his horse and began rummaging through his saddle packs, pulling out a piece of rope they had previously used to tie the horses. "We have a justice system to take care of ruffians like these. We'll turn 'em over in the city of Tallgeese."

"And what exactly will this 'justice system' of yours do to them?" Wufei asked, looking down contemptuously at the cowering man beneath him.

"Depends on how many crimes they have on their slate," Broden answered as he began tying up the one Wu Fei apprehended. "They may hang them eventually." Even the way these people tied knots was different from how it was done back home. "First thing they'll do is make them give the names of their companions, the ones who ran." Broden handed Wu Fei the end of the rope that bound the hands of this man and moved on to the one Wu Fei had knocked unconscious. "If they refuse to speak, they'll be tortured until they do. You know what torture is?"

"Yes." It was the least of what these thieves deserved. "This hanging, it kills them?"

"Breaks the neck." Lord Broden answered. "It's a common public occasion. The capital has them every so often. Lord Yuy should take you to one."

Public executions were not uncommon back home either. It would be interesting to see how these people handled it. He pulled on the rope none too gently, making the captured bandit stand up. He watched as Lord Yuy tied the one he had captured to the saddle to make him walk alongside the horse and copied it. In the meantime, Lord Broden and one of the servants laid the bound unconscious man face down across the saddle of one of the servant's horses.

"Everyone all right?" Lord Yuy looked from Wu Fei to Broden to the servants. "Mary, you okay?" The female servant he had brought to serve him was shaking on her legs, but she nodded weakly.

"I'm alright, My Lord."

Lord Yuy and Lord Broden moved to search the cart the robbers had left behind. It was only then that Wu Fei noticed Lord Yuy was slightly limping. A tear in the surcoat staining red confirmed that he had been injured. Broden apparently noticed it as well, for he was pointing at it while speaking to Heero. Wu Fei could not hear what was being said, but apparently the injury was not serious, for the lord brushed off Lord Broden's attempt to get him to sit down. They disappeared in the cart together, only to reappear shortly afterwards. With no horse to spare, they decided to leave the cart where they found it and continue their journey home.

The sun already stood high in the sky and Lord Yuy wanted to reach home before nightfall. With the unconscious man taking up the male servant's horse, the servant had to walk instead. The two bandits tied to Lord Yuy's saddle and Wu Fei's saddle looked quite docile as they were led onward. Wu Fei scowled at that. These people were weak. Fighting them had left behind such an empty feeling.

"You fight well without a sword." Lord Broden came to ride next to Wu Fei. "Do all your people have such skills?"

"Of course," Wu Fei answered. "If a rival clan attacks, each is expected to defend his own."

"Even the farmers?"

Ah yes, another difference between this country and his. Here the farmers gained a certain amount of protection from the noble family they worked for. Back home, such a thing was never asked. One who could not defend himself only brought shame onto his family and deserved to be killed. "Everyone." It even included females, though they only fought if the males had failed to stop the attackers. The females would not scream and run, they would defend their homes.

* * *

Being a well-known noble had its advantages. After delivering the bandits, the authorities had taken statements. Heero had very little patience with people who believed they had any kind of authority and his statement had been short. He had simply told them that he wanted to be home before nightfall and that if they wished to have more details they could visit him there. They had attempted to stop him, of course, but a few well-chosen words and an even better chosen expression had quickly made them see his way.

It was mainly lord Broden who had insisted he visit a doctor for the cut on his leg. It hurt when he walked on it, but he'd had far worse from sparring as a knight. Still, he let a doctor clean and bandage it before they moved on. It had helped avoid questions from the stable master back home and his ever-observant butler Geoffrey.

"Well, look who's back from far gone." Duo was seated in the wooden chair, arms crossed, watching as Heero entered his bedroom. The lord had not had a chance to speak to Helen yet regarding the slave's behaviour this week. Dinner was in not too long and he wanted to change into clean clothing before joining Wu Fei and his father, the latter of course wanting to know how their trip had been. The elder Lord Yuy would not appreciate it if Heero sat down at table looking like dirt and smelling like sweat and horses.

"Draw me a bath." He was really looking forward to getting himself clean again. He'd told a passing servant he would be bathing so the fires to heat the water should be lit.

"Hmph, didn't get a 'goodbye' when you left, don't even get a 'how are you' when you return. Not even so much as an 'Hello'."

Heero paused in unbuttoning his surcoat to narrow his eyes at the slave. "Move," he ordered.

The slave scowled right back. "Can't reach it," he said. "You left me with barely enough space to turn my ass when you left."

Right. He'd forgotten about that. Stupid. He retrieved the crystal from his nightstand and allowed the boy enough room to reach the bath. With another indignant snort, the slave stood up to do as he was told. When he returned Heero had him help with dressing him down. When they came to the riding boots Duo hesitated. "You're injured," he said, frowning. There was no concern in the Shinigami's voice. He was merely making an observation, stating a fact.

"Superficial," Heero told him. "Keep going."

"What happened?" Duo pulled off one boot and then the stockings.

"Some idiots thought they could rob us," Heero informed the slave grudgingly.

"And you fought them off?" Duo asked. "Bet you sent their asses to hell."

"They were not killed, they were turned in," Heero answered impatiently.

"You showed them mercy?" The slave asked in a disbelieving voice.

"It is the law."

"Right..." The slave said nothing further, but continued to pull off the breeches.

Heero hissed and pulled back when the slave passed the injury none too carefully. "Stupid slave!" He lashed out with a hand, but to his surprise the slave ducked in time. Heero glared at him.

"You said it was just superficial," Duo said with a shrug and pulled the breeches free of the legs. "You gonna need help bathing?"

"No." It irritated Heero to no end that the slave was right and this injury was a little deeper than superficial. He undid the bandage on his leg himself and was pleased to see the bleeding had stopped despite that. "Gather my clothes. Sort out which need to be mended and lay out proper wear for dinner." He told his slave before moving to the bathroom.

Getting himself in the bathtub was not as easy as he had hoped. Putting all his weight on his injured leg and then turning just did not work, so he had to actually sit on the edge of the tub before swinging his legs over. He simply refused to humiliate himself further by getting the slave to help him get in and out of the bathtub.

* * *

"Did your trip go well, My Lord?"

"All went fine." Heero did not feel the need to inform Helen about the thieves they had encountered. He had been pleased to find that Wu Fei of Chang had not mentioned Heero's injury during their dinner with his father. Gossip spread quickly among the servants and Heero did not need to be seen as weak. "How did the Shinigami behave this week?"

"Oh, he behaved as always, My Lord. For the most part," the servant answered.

Heero frowned. "For the most part?"

"He became annoyed at the limited space he had to move around," Helen explained.

That was not very surprising. It certainly explained the slave's less than cheerful mood this afternoon. "Did he do anything to you? Did he attack you?"

The woman quickly shook her head. "No Sir, not at all. He just showed a bad mood."

"A bad mood? Was he rude?"

Helen chuckled. "His language has never been the most profound, My Lord," she said to him. "It became somewhat... more foul. But he did not turn against me."

"I see." So his anger really was just directed at Heero. Of course, if he proceeded as he had planned and the boy was sent to actually work under Helen, that might change when she started ordering him around. "In your opinion, do you believe he can be set to work? Would he cause trouble?"

"Ones like him always cause trouble sooner or later is as I see," the woman answered simply. "Might as well get it over with."

Heero considered her words for a moment. "Do you think he will be a danger to other servants?"

"I think not so much," Helen said slowly, considering it. "Besides myself I have only allowed Hilde to come near him. That has never given trouble."

"But Hilde has never been much of a problem."

"True. But she is easily intimidated. He did not attempt to intimidate her."

Some slaves felt as if they had to earn the highest ranking amongst the slaves. One who was very sensitive towards that idea could cause problems if he became competitive. Heero had no idea how the Shinigami thought of such things. He was already different from the common crowd. The Shinigami had gained a standing of his own years ago.

Heero was far from ready to let the slave out all day, but it was high time they started working towards that. "Get him cleaned up tonight," He told her. "Tomorrow you will show him how to serve my meals." That way he would be there with the crystal to keep the boy in check.

"As you wish, My Lord." The woman bowed. "Ah- do you want me to inform him as well?"

"No, I'll do that myself."

With that, Helen was dismissed.

* * *

The ache in his leg was considerably less the next morning. Last night Geoffrey had brought him a cup of tea, apparently suggested by Lord Wu Fei of Chang, containing herbs that should help the healing process and ease the pain. Whether it were the herbs or simply his body taking care of it, Heero didn't know and he did not really care. He could walk without limping this time, which was enough information for him.

The lord had not yet told Duo that he would start serving. The surprised look on the slave's face when Heero released the chains was well worth the wait. Knowing this one was known as the dangerous Shinigami made the looks only more amusing. He had more sense than to show it, though. Instead he spoke with authority. "Today you will start earning your meals."

The slave raised an eyebrow. "And what have I been doing so far? Freeloading?"

Heero ignored the comment. "You will earn your meals by learning how to serve me mine. You will follow Helen's instructions. You will serve in silence. Speaking out of turn will be punished. Disobedience will be punished. Rudeness will cost you. Behave and you may earn more freedom of movement."

Duo snorted, crossing his arms. "Yeah, cuz these chains can give so much more."

Without warning, Heero grabbed the slave's braid and brought the head closer to his own. "You start now," he said with a warning glare.

The slave nearly growled looking back at Heero, but the lord simply glared back. For a long time they glared at each other. The Shinigami seemed to withstand Heero's gaze in a way very few did. "I assure you the alternative will not be pleasant."

"Hmph." The slave finally looked away annoyed and Heero let go of his hair. This might just turn out to be a very long day.

"Come." He did not look around to see of the slave followed, but he certainly listened. Guards were placed strategically just in case, but they should be staying out of sight. Heero preferred Duo thought him more confident in his control over him than he truly was.

The slave followed at a slight distance. He had only been out of Heero's quarters that one time he had taken the boy to the library, which had been a reward for how Duo had advanced in the blindfold exercises. Heero imagined the Shinigami looking about warily and very alert, but he did not look back to confirm until he held open the door to the dining room. The table was already set and Helen was waiting in the proper position. Heero nudged his head towards her indicating that Duo should join her. When he passed, Heero grabbed his arm though and gave him a good warning look before letting go. The boy rolled his eyes –first rude gesture, Heero counted- before joining her.

The table was set for two, as Wu Fei had decided to join Heero for breakfast. He should be here soon. The foreign lord was quite precise when it came to time. Heero used the moment to observe the quiet conversation between Helen and Duo, where Helen explained quickly how things worked. So far the slave seemed to listen.

Wu Fei joined not much later and the two upper-class men took their respective seats. A moment later the small door concealing the servant's hall towards the kitchen opened and a third servant entered, carrying two silver plates, each containing a piece of freshly baked manchet -a type of bread Heero was quite fond of. After placing a plate in front of either lord, he stepped back and took his place behind Wu Fei. And so the meal began.

Serving was not a very complicated task in the Yuy household. You basically set the table, cleared the table, kept the glasses filled –especially Wu Fei did not wish to be asked if he wanted a refill, his glass should always be full- and made certain anything the one you were serving wanted was provided. It was Duo who refilled Heero's glass when he'd emptied it. Heero tensed when he noticed the slave approached and paused, but the boy gave no trouble, just filled the glass and stood back.

All in all breakfast proceeded calmly. At one point the boy snorted loudly and at another he kept shifting audibly, but he served as one should, even fetching another piece of manchet from the kitchen when Heero signalled for it. When breakfast was done, Duo was to help Helen clean up and then the head of his household was to bring the slave to Heero's bedroom, where he would be waiting.

The young lord did not have to wait long. Soon enough Helen came upstairs, Duo trailing behind her. With a look Heero asked if there had been problems, but Helen shook her head and left with a bow.

"That was boring," Duo commented as soon as the door was closed.

Heero picked up a chain and looked at him. "Come here." The slave obeyed scowling. "Then what would you rather be doing?" Heero asked, attaching the first chain.

"Ha, not be here, for one," came the quick reply.

"Not an option," Heero answered.

"Then why ask what I want?" Duo retorted impatiently. "'S not like you gonna give me a choice now, is it?"

"Not unless you can do something unique."

"Unique?" Duo snorted. "Right, and if I can do something so special you'll still be telling me when I can and can't do it."

"See?" Heero nearly smirked. "You're beginning to learn."

Having attached the chains to the collar and wrist cuffs, Heero reached inside his pocket for the crystal. The chains were fully out, but that was about to change. Duo eyed him warily, well aware what was in the pocket, but when he was suddenly pulled back some by the chains, he still yelped. He must have expected pain.

"That was for rolling your eyes at me," Heero said. "It is rude." He fingered the crystal again and the chains retracted further. "That was for snorting during my meal. I told you to stay quiet." The boy opened his mouth to speak, but Heero did not give him a chance as he touched the crystal once more and the chains retracted just a little further, jerking the slave back, cutting off his words. "That was for fidgeting so much you disturbed me," he said. The slave now had just a few feet to move around. "Do better at lunch."

* * *

princess/rlyblue

"Progress for the sake of progress must be prohibited!" Oh wait, that's another story...

So, Quatre is trying to come to terms with Trowa's departure and Heero decides to give Duo some more 'leash'. Do you like these devellopments? Do you think the story progresses naturally or does it feel wrong? They're not going very fast, but they're going. How do you think Duo will react to his new responsibilities? Feel free to let me know in a review!


	15. 14: Company

Here's chapter 14!

Glad to hear you guys like my characterisation of Relena. She can be a really intelligent young woman, if you just forget about the first ten-or-so episodes from Gundam Wing and back in the days queens had to be intelligent to use what power they did not formally have to their advantage.

JJ: There will be more Duo/Wufei interaction in the future. I like those two together, they are friends in most of my stories.

Warnings: Nothing in particular

Thanks can be found in earlier chapters!

* * *

14: Company

Travelling was expensive. It was definitely more expensive than living in one place. The prices some inns named when you asked to spend a night were simply ridiculous. Honestly, two silver marks when you were just passing through? Just for the room, mind. If you wanted food, you'd have to pay again as much. And most of the people staying there looked as if they had not even one silver mark to spend.

It wasn't as if the rooms they offered were very good either. Trowa had spent a night at an inn for one silver mark where the bed looked so shabby he was surprised it even held. And the mattress had felt horrible as well.

It had not taken Trowa very long to figure out that in the smaller, far off villages prices were far more reasonable than in the bigger towns. He counted himself lucky that for once he was not in a hurry. That way, if he reached a smaller village around midday, he could just decide to stay there rather than press on to make time. The North would not disappear.

The downside of spending his nights in those small villages were the questions. People wanted to know where he was heading, but once he mentioned he was heading up north, he gained himself strange looks and whispers. One late afternoon he had even heard some kids yell 'sorcerer!' in his direction. He never even mentioned magic. He knew the country's policy on that. It was not fair of them to judge him so easily, but they did not seem bothered by that. In cities he'd found people quite more easy-going regarding his destination. When he said he was going north they did not assume he was going to do magic.

But the cities were much too expensive. Therefore Trowa had resorted to telling lies. Anyone in a small town asked where he was heading he'd name a larger place two or three days riding from there and the people were satisfied. Instead of giving him uncomfortable looks, they actually started telling him of what he should visit and which shops and inns he should avoid. He did not like deceiving these people, but he was not doing anything illegal simply by going north and it seemed to ease the villagers if he went some place they'd heard of.

Another thing he had learned these past weeks was that travelling alone was quite boring. He'd never had a problem being left on his own in the castle. With how much work he'd been given in his life as a slave, he'd actually enjoyed the few moments of silence he could get. But now that he was really on his own for such a long time, he was beginning to miss the feel of having someone familiar around. He was not scared on his own. Even not knowing what lay ahead in that foreign country still weeks from this place did not put fear in him. As a slave his fate had always been unknown and the knowledge that he actually had control over his life made him feel more confident than he had ever felt before. It just got boring having to discuss the same things with a new set of strangers each day.

He was happy he had taken the flute. It helped him pass his days of riding. The sway of the horse was steady and easily compensated for and he enjoyed playing the instrument. He thought he heard improvement as well. He was still only a beginner, though.

It was that flute which eventually landed him with some much desired company.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Trowa paused in his song to look up. He had been so lost in his music that he had not even noticed the woman who'd come to ride next to him. "I said that flute makes good music for something that looks like crap."

The woman had wavy hair that reached just past her shoulders. It had the oddest colour, almost red but not quite. It was more of a dark blond colour, Trowa supposed. Her green eyes looked him over pleasantly. She was dressed in quite simple clothing. The green dress she wore -if it could even be called a dress- barely reached her knees and was buckled around her waist with a black belt. Underneath she wore men's breeches and black riding boots. She rode like a guy, with one foot on each side of the horse. What caught his attention the most, however, was the cloak she wore. He had never seen such a colourful cloak. Lines in every colour were embroidered on it, waving and spiralling from the hood all the way down. It looked odd, to say the least, and Trowa's head spun when he looked at it too long.

He glanced at the flute in his hands and then looked back to the colourful appearance. "Thank you," he answered, although he was uncertain whether she had just given him a real compliment or not.

"May I see it?" She asked, holding out a hand for the flute.

Trowa hesitated. The flute was the first personal possession he'd ever had and the only one he carried with him. The woman seemed honestly interested. But she'd called it crap, which probably meant she wasn't going to steal it. He handed the instrument to her.

She accepted it, delicately turning it over this way and that as if examining it. "It really does look like it was made by an amateur." She lifted the thing to her mouth and gently blew on it. Startled, Trowa ducked his head at the sound it made. He'd never produced something that false before. Did she even know the first things about instruments?

The woman seemed equally surprised. She lowered the flute with a frown and looked at it. "What in the world..." She handed it back to him. "Play something more," she asked. "You seem capable of making it sound right."

He had nothing better to do, which was why he might as well do as she asked. He put the flute to his mouth again and blew gently. The sound he produced was nowhere near what she'd made.

"Amazing." Still riding, the woman turned to rummage through her saddle bag until she pulled out a wooden case. Opening it, she revealed another flute. She put it to her mouth and played a simple melody for a couple of seconds, then handed it to him. "Try this one?"

Odd woman. Carefully, Trowa put away his own flute to accept hers. It felt different from his own flute, somehow less powerful. He put it to his mouth and blew it. The sound it made was not off, but it did not come near what he could do with his own flute. Wondering about that, he handed it back to the woman.

"Truly odd," she said, putting her own flute back in the case and then in the saddle bag. "Oh, I'm Leia, by the way." She said, turning back to him. "Leia Barton. The only female gleeman you'll find."

"Gleeman?" He'd heard of them but he had never actually met one. They were the people who told stories, played music or performed other small tricks for entertainment. They were like circus people, only they worked alone.

"I know what you're thinking," she said. "You're wondering if it should be gleewoman then since I'm a woman. But since I'm the only one and I think gleeman sounds just right, gleeman it is. Makes better money too, I'm sure." She looked at him, but he simply nodded. "So, what's your name?"

"Trowa," he answered.

"Well, Trowa. Ever earned money playing the flute?" He could not say that he had. "Want to learn?"

He looked at her uncertainly. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"I've decided there's something about you that I like," Leia answered. "And I could do with an apprentice. It's an open deal," she added quickly. "No promises either way beyond tomorrow."  
"I'm not looking to become a gleeman," Trowa answered. "I'm just heading north."

Leia smiled. "Well, so am I for now, so why not ride north together? I'll teach you how to earn money with that flute of yours and I may teach you other tricks as well."

Trowa looked at her suspiciously. "And what would be in it for you?"

"The company mainly," she answered. "And I must admit having a man with me will get me accepted more easily further north."

* * *

The Lord of Chang had to admit at least to himself that life here in the east was not as bad as he had expected it to be. It was not even as bad as it had seemed to be that first week he had been here. For one, not having to change for every meal turned out to be quite a relief. Here timing was important and meals were served at the same time each day. If for one reason or another you were running late today, at least you did not have to bother about changing.

The servants in the Yuy household were also much fewer than what he was used to. The young lord had explained to him once that they had hidden hallways built into their home so the servants could move about unseen. Though at first that had been unnerving to Wu Fei, now that he was used to the idea he enjoyed not having two or three ladies moving out of the way bowing low for him every few steps he took. And at the same time his room was kept neat, his laundry was removed and returned clean and the lights were lit just as darkness set in.

Life was settling into a pleasant pace now that he was helping the Yuy lords with their workload and he found that especially the elder lord was thankful of his help. The younger lord quite likely appreciated it as well, but Heero Yuy did not seem very familiar with expressing it. Among Wu Fei's people, showing gratitude to someone on the same level as you –which seldom happened because someone was almost always above or below you, even if just marginally- was a sign of respect. Expressing gratitude to someone higher than yourself -even if you were not feeling thankful- was considered proper etiquette. He knew he was considered equal to these people, if not higher, yet Heero Yuy was not accustomed to actually speaking the words that Wu Fei would have expected to get back home.

People here were much more straightforward towards people of their own class. They said what they were thinking and they rarely sugar-coated it. That had been a culture shock if anything at first, but it had its advantages well. For all the rudeness he thought these people possessed, Wu Fei also knew that Heero was not unsatisfied with him. After all, if the eastern lord was displeased, he would express it.

Today Wu Fei had quite an interesting schedule. The younger Lord Broden was in the capital again this week –apparently he travelled here once every few weeks for business- and he had promised to take Wu Fei to see one of those executions he had mentioned. Later on he would take him to some of the more 'pleasurable parts of the capital'. Wu Fei understood that the lord had meant something special by that, yet he had no idea what he should be expecting. Lord Broden had insisted on showing him what public entertainment was like, as he figured correctly that Lord Yuy was not one to volunteer for such a task.

But before that Prince Quatre Winner was due to visit the Yuy household. It was about time too. He'd been here nearly two months already and all that time the prince had the impudence to not even pay a visit. He was supposed to be a guest of the prince and his wife, but since he'd been set up in the Yuy household, he had not seen a single member of the royal family. It was truly an insult.

As a guest in this country, Wu Fei could not express that himself. It was Lord Yuy's task to see to his honour. And the lord would, of course, do so in private. So when the prince arrived Wu Fei bowed respectfully and he spoke with the blond man like he would speak to any lord that stood above him, even though as an honoured guest, that position could be questioned even with a crown prince.

And then the most surprising event occurred.

After discussing work, Prince Winner asked Wu Fei to join him for a stroll in the garden. Of course, the Master of Chang accepted gracefully, leaving Lord Yuy behind in his study. They had barely stepped outside, when the prince looked to him with a smile Wu Fei just could not place. "So, Lord of Chang, please do you tell me how you are finding your residence here. Are you satisfied? Is there anything you need?"

A little late to be asking that now, Wu Fei of Chang thought, but of course he could not answer that. "All is well here. Thank you," he answered instead. "I find both lords Yuy quite adequate in looking after my needs."

"Good," the prince replied. "I'm glad." They entered a path which Wu Fei knew would lead to one of the fairest spots in the well-tended garden.

"I feel like I must apologise to you, though." An apology? Straight out? Without Lord Yuy's indication? Wu Fei almost stopped dead in his tracks, but the blond prince did not seem to notice and just continued. "You were sent here to be my guest, and I sent you to one of my dearest friends instead."

Dearest friend? "Your apology is unnecessary, Your Highness." The prince considered Lord Yuy a friend? There was another thing unexpected. Wu Fei wondered for a brief moment if that sentiment was at all returned.

"On the contrary." Prince Quatre shook his head. "Though I'm certain either Lord Yuy knows how to be an excellent host, you were expecting royal company and you have seen very little of it. I simply must apologise for my lack of presence. I shall not diminish you with excuses when I should have found the time earlier."

This man was good. Wu Fei was impressed with the admission of guilt. It was much more than he had expected from one of these people. "I accept your apology."

"Thank you." There was that smile again, the one that Wu Fei could not quite place. It was similar to the smile of politeness back home, yet it was different. Then again, perhaps it just seemed different due to the shape of the eyes. It was hard enough to read most of these people.

"So Lord Chang, if I may enquire, how are you truly finding existence here in the east?"

Wu Fei mused on that for a moment before he settled on "I find living here quite... different."

"In the positive sense or in the negative sense of the word?" The prince asked.

Wu Fei was about to answer positive, but then it occurred to him that these people did not get insulted at being given the true answer instead of the polite one. Therefore, unnerving as it was, he decided to answer "I am not quite certain yet."

Indeed the prince actually chuckled at that response. "Well, I hope you will eventually decide on 'positive'."

"I might." Although he was not so certain of that yet.

"Do you miss your home?"

What? Such a rude, personal question. Wu Fei straightened his back. "Of course," he answered stiffly.

Prince Quatre frowned as they reached the centre of the garden. "I seem to have insulted you again," he said, sitting down on the white wooden bench that was placed here.

"It is fine," Wu Fei answered curtly. He decided to remain standing.

The prince shook his head. "Please, tell me what I said wrong?" He asked. "I do not wish to insult you therefore I must learn what offends."

He was a straightforward as Lord Yuy could be. Realising he was fidgeting, Wu Fei calmed himself. "I am merely not accustomed to such a... personal approach."

"I see." The prince thought about that for a moment. "It was not my intention to invade your privacy. It's merely my experience that people are more comfortable speaking of things familiar to them, but I know very little of your country. I meant no insult."

"Again, I accept your apology." Would these people –this man- ever stop surprising him?.

"So will you tell me about your country?"

"What do you wish to know?"

"Hmm." The prince indicated his hand towards the garden. "Do you have flowers that look like these?"

* * *

"The people of Chang are quite a different people."

Lord Yuy looked at his prince and friend with an expression which, if he guessed correctly, must seem quite blank before taking a sip of his drink. "They are."

It was lunch time and the foreign lord had gone to the capital with Lord Broden. The lower lord had insisted they eat there instead of at the Yuy mansion. Apparently he thought Wu Fei was in need of some new experiences. Heero could not say he was very much looking forward to the Lord of Chang's return. He was not at all certain how the Lord of Chang would react to what Heero figured Lord Broden was planning on showing him.

"I found it quite hard to communicate with him," the prince said. "It took me a while to find common ground."

"You?" Heero answered, taking a bite. Prince Quatre never had trouble talking to people. That was usually Heero's thing.

"I know." The prince sighed. "Yet before we reached the bench I already had to apologise twice."

"Of all the people." The prince was not the one he would have expected to screw up. "With the level of diplomacy you can present?"

"Yes, well. This time my 'level of diplomacy' seemed to turn against me instead. He did not appreciate any enquiries to his personal life at all."

"He is a private man." Heero had noticed that for all the foreign lord spoke of his country, it seldom if ever seemed to include what his personal life was like. Heero did not mind it though, and he never enquired.

"That coming from you means a lot."

It was a mumble, but Heero caught it nonetheless and just shot the prince another blank look.

"He seems to be adjusting, though," Quatre just continued, ignoring Heero's expressionless countenance. "He is pleased with his residence here, though he does not quite agree with our bathing rituals. I couldn't get out of him what was so wrong with our ways and I feared prying too much would only insult him again."

Heero chuckled at those words. "Sounds like you had it rough."

"I don't know what it was, but it just never seemed to add up," Quatre said, sipping his wine. "He looked like he was thinking one thing yet he was saying something completely different."

To any who did not know the prince as well as Heero did, that sounded like he was speaking of body language, but Lord Yuy assumed he prince was instead speaking of what he had felt. When Quatre had taken the foreign lord outside, Heero suspected he'd wanted to get him secluded enough to get a decent feeling of the lord. In the house with servants walking by all the time it was impossible for the blond prince to isolate what was coming from a man he'd only met once in a room full of other strangers.

"I can't say I have encountered that problem," Heero answered, thinking about it. To him it was simple. He just answered the lord's questions and asked very few of his own. The lord of Chang was a guest which he had to house and entertain, not a lord he needed to keep in place. He found it quite a relief not having to constantly try and find out if the man was planning on disobeying or backstabbing him.

"Ah, sometimes it must be so nice to be you," The prince said in a teasing tone. Heero narrowed his eyes, not certain he liked that remark, but Quatre just chuckled. "Never mind," He said, shaking his head and putting down his knife. "I'm full. Shall we move to more comfortable quarters?"

"Does my sitting room meet your expectations?" Heero offered.

"Quite," Quatre answered and moved to stand up.

Heero stood as well, taking his glass of wine and with a glance at his slave, he said "Join me when you finish." The boy nodded, speaking not a word and began clearing the table as Heero led the way to his private quarters. Once there he did not have to wait long for the questions he knew would come the moment they were alone.

"You have him serving now," the crown prince remarked. "Does that mean you trust him?"

Heero simply shrugged. "I trust he is smart enough not to make life harder on himself."

"I see," said Quatre. "I then assume the challenge you wished for in buying him has not yet passed."

"Not by far," Heero answered. The boy was still feisty enough to present a challenge and Lord Yuy doubted that the boy's good behaviour these past weeks would last much longer. He was practically waiting for an outburst one way or another. He had no idea how it would surface, but he knew it would. He felt it every time the boy returned from serving, every time Heero chained him back up. The boy was biding his time, checking out his situation, feeling carefully how far he could go. Something was bound to happen eventually.

"And when, I must ask, will you consider the challenge to be fulfilled?" Heero glanced at Quatre who, when he did not answer immediately, continued. "When you have him tamed? When you have him humiliate himself publicly, have him roll over and beg at the merest hint in your voice?" The disgust the crown prince held for such practices was apparent.

Heero did not share the disgust, or at least not in the same way. "If I had wanted a slave to 'roll over and beg' at my command, I would have bought a broken one," He replied, perhaps a little colder than he should have. Therefore he added "I will need to tame him, but he needs to be disciplined to me only. His spirit is what makes him worthwhile. I do not intend to break it."

"You want him tame but spirited," Quatre answered, staring at the door that led to Heero's bedroom. "I wonder what that would be like."

"Much like your Trowa, I suppose," Heero answered. "Only not so silent." Heero was cautious of the prince's reaction. He was aware that the former slave had chosen to leave about a month ago and he as very well aware of the crown prince's hardship in dealing with it. But if he was lucky, the blond prince would want to speak of it –Prince Quatre was the kind of man who wanted to talk about things- and thus it would avert his attention from the slave who was to join them any minute now.

"You believe Trowa is spirited?" Quatre asked surprised. "You never regarded him."

"He was a servant," Heero simply explained on the latter part and for the first he said "that one was never just standing around waiting. He was more observant than any other servant I've ever encountered."

It was at that moment that the door to the sitting room opened and Duo entered quietly. Heero nodded to the floor at his left side. The slave glanced once at the crown prince, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he went to sit by his master without a word. The conversation continued uninterrupted.

"He definitely is that." Quatre stared at his glass of wine. "I found his insight quite valuable."

"A difference in class allows one to perceive situations differently," Heero agreed, putting a hand in Duo's hair to toy with it. That happened automatically now when the slave joined him and he found it quite a pleasurable habit.

"It isn't just his perception from a slave's point of view," Quatre said quietly. "It is, in general the way he is able to distance himself from people, to look at them with complete objectiveness. With all my diplomatic training, I never could completely put my feelings or opinions aside. Not like he can," Quatre said sorrowfully. "And now he's gone."

"It may not be forever," the prince's friend noted. "He may yet decide that all which attracted his attention is not as agreeable as he had hoped to find it."

But the blond prince shook his head. "Knowing Trowa, he has thought the whole thing through, carefully weighed all the possibilities before he took action." Quatre sunk back in his chair with a deep sigh. "To you only, my friend, would I shamefully confess that at times I wish I had never set him free."

Beneath his hand, Heero felt rapid movement as the slave at his feet glance up suddenly. "You freed a slave?" The words were out of Duo's mouth before Heero could give warning and, offended, the lord grabbed the slave's braid and quickly wrapped it tight around his hand, pulling the boy's head back far enough to make him look up at him. Duo obviously realised he had spoken very much out of turn, for he only let out a grunt of pain before remaining perfectly still.

For a tense moment nobody seemed to move. The prince understood that on this occasion he should not interfere and chose to let Heero handle his slave's rudeness as he saw fit. Heero glared at his servant, who swallowed and looked dreadful of what to come. But despite his obviously present fear, the boy refused to cower.

The moment passed and Heero let go, at which point Duo hurriedly averted his gaze towards the floor. "My apologies," The lord gave to the prince. "He is obviously not yet completely trained." It was the proper thing to say at the moment, despite them having already discussed the matter quite elaborately prior to the slave's arrival.

"So I see," the prince answered. "If you wish, I give you leave to go deal with him now."

Duo's fidgeting was only noticed by Heero because he had placed his hand on top of the boy's head. "I shall not keep you waiting, but rather deal with him later."

"Of course."

The mood for their previous topic of conversation now ruined, Quatre resolved to ask about Heero's plans for this fall. With the crops being harvested and the grain being reaped the end of season came into view, which meant that, with work now slowing considerable, the noble houses would be organising balls and festivities. Quite a few of them were meant for the benefit of the unmarried part of society. And Heero still belonged to that society.

Heero was not planning on attending many of the balls or festivities. Some were important enough that he felt he could not be absent, but most he would rather let pass. He found the whole ordeal of dancing with mindless women a rather silly thing and since Prince Quatre got engaged nearly two years earlier and was therefore no longer taking part in any of those for single men and women, Heero had decided he would from then on avoid them as much as possible.

It was another hour before the prince departed again, in which time they spoke of many small matters. When he took his leave, the prince assured Lord Yuy he intended to visit him again soon if business allowed it and invited him to stop by at any time as well. They both knew it was unlikely that Heero would do so. Geoffrey saw the prince to his horse and waiting servant.

"He said he'd freed a slave." Heero did not have to wait long for that question. He turned to his slave who had got up and stood behind him.

"So he did," he answered simply, moving to his bedroom door. As expected the slave followed.

For a moment the boy was silent. "I didn't even know that was possible."

Heero had gathered as much. "It is, under certain circumstances," he simply answered.

"Like what?" The slave asked tentatively.

"The slave needs to be over 21," Heero said, seating himself in the comfortable chair of his bedroom and crossing his legs. "For those born into slavery or taken before the age of ten that is the most important rule. For prisoners of war there are different rules." For prisoners of war the rules were decided during or just after the war and they were often complex. They dealt with multiple circumstances, taking into consideration the former position of the slave, the age, level of cooperation, level of usefulness, crimes, etcetera. None of that interested Duo, though.

"That's it?" The slave asked surprised. "You're 21 and the master tells you that you can go?"

"Of course not," Heero answered. "There is paperwork involved which costs money. Then it is the master's duty to set up the slave in such a way that he will not end up a tramp on the streets. Whether that is done by giving the slave-to-free a decent amount of money or a job or a residence is up to the master."

The Shinigami took a few moments to process that information. "Does it happen often?" He asked carefully.

"Sometimes." Heero only knew of a handful of people who had been freed that way. "Some masters allow their slaves to receive a small payment for their work which they may use to save up for buying their freedom."

The slave was taking the information up quickly. "But why would anyone set a slave free? We're free labour."

Heero shrugged. "I suppose some think it's fair. Others decide they don't need the servants anymore nor the money they gain from selling. Some just grow to care too much for their slaves."

"Which reason did that Quatre guy have?"

"The latter."

Duo considered that. "I'm about 21. You gonna set me free?"

"No." He doubted the answer came as a surprise to the slave but he thought he saw the boy wince anyway.

"Why not?" He sounded almost defiant when he asked that.

"You're mine." He wondered if he sounded as possessive as he thought he did. "I wish to keep you. Besides, if I set you free, you'll be killed." He added that more as an afterthought than an actual reason.

"What do you mean?" The Shinigami sounded suspicious

"You made yourself too many enemies. There are those who blame you for the deaths of your former masters and they want to make you pay. They know better than to touch you while you are mine, but they'll find you if you are free."

The Shinigami scowled hard. "I can take care of myself."

"You know nothing," Heero told him. "And as I said, you're mine. Now come here. You have some punishment due." He was, of course, aiming at the boy speaking in front of a guest. Though Heero allowed questions while they were in private, he could not tolerate them in company and setting the slave right was a necessity. He dealt with the boy swiftly by spanking him and Duo took it with his usual air of annoyance followed by an apology of which Heero doubted the sincerity, but he would let that go. Instead he just got up.

"Be good." Since this week he left his slave in his bedroom unchained during daytime and he did the same today. The boy knew that causing trouble would mean having his freedom taken away. It seemed a very good incentive to keep him in line, but as he had confessed to Quatre, he was still waiting for that outburst to come.

* * *

princess/rlyblue

So Trowa is on the move and Quatre manages to find time to visit again. Are you guys liking the scenes with Quatre and Heero or Quatre and Wu Fei? I find Quatre the hardest person to write while avoiding the worst clichés about him. I hope I'm doing a good job!


	16. 15: Perception

Hi all, and here's chapter 15 for you guys to enjoy.

Some of you were expecting Leia Barton to be Catherine Bloom. I can understand that, as she's a circus performer in the original series and not much is known about Leia Barton apart from that she was a nurse and Mariemeia's mother. But Catherine will be used later in the story and I had planned a possible background story for Leia Barton.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Thanks in previous chapters.

Warnings for this particular chapter: gory description of executions, some powerplay, some swearing.

* * *

15: Perception

A strange sense of familiarity settled over Trowa as he looked around. He felt he knew this place, but he couldn't for the life of him understand where he was. He looked around the dark corridor, lit only by weak torches hung on the grey stone walls. Not a sound reached his ears, not even that of the burning torches but the stale smell reminded him of something, like a previous life he should remember but was just out of his reach. Well, standing here he would never find out where he was.

Carefully Trowa stepped forward, following the darkness. His surroundings seemed to light up in front of him with every step he took. For a while the corridor seemed to go straight ahead, then it started turning, first to the left, then to the right, then again to the left. All the while he heard nothing, saw no-one and found no exit.

Trowa paused to look back and started. Behind him was no longer a corridor, but a garden he somehow recognised from another life. Yet the moment he started towards it, the garden disappeared into darkness and all he could see were the grey stone walls again. He wasn't supposed to go back. He was supposed to go forward. He knew it.

Several more turns followed. Most of them went to the right and just as he wondered if he were walking in circles, he noticed a doorway on his left. Strange. He should have seen it earlier, but he only detected it when he was right beside it.

Was this the way out? The heavy wooden door was slightly ajar. Sounds were coming from the other side, someone was in there. Perhaps that someone could show him the way? He pushed the door further open only to come face to face with a man he knew he should know, but he could not possibly put a name to him. The man had chocolate brown hair, kept too unruly to suit his high class clothes and the glare on the man's face sent a shiver down Trowa's spine. But the glare wasn't aimed at him, or at least Trowa did not think it was. The man passed him without a word, as if he did not even see him. Trowa turned to follow him only to find that behind him the heavy door had been replaced by a wall made of books.

Trowa was about to call out to the man when all of a sudden he heard something to his left. A figure, clad in dark clothes to hide his appearance, suddenly came out of nothing and a knife glinted in the darkness, heading straight for the familiar lord's head. The aristocrat did not seem to see, but a figure screamed –not the noble nor the attacker and it made the lord pause and turn. Suddenly, Trowa's head swam in pain and the room swirled before him, the scene dissolving into another one.

This was definitely a throne room of some kind. The walls were richly adorned with yellow and purple though Trowa could not for the life of him make out what the ornaments were. The only thing he could see was that he was standing on purple floor coverings leading towards a large wooden chair, lined with golden light. Trowa looked around for the brown-haired man or the dark figure, but he found neither. Instead he found a blond young man and this one he could put a name to. Master. No, that was just a title. Quatre, that was it. The name rang inside his head like someone had screamed it at him, yet he knew no-one had spoken.

This room was crowded with upper-class men –had it been that way a moment ago? He did not know, but the man called Quatre stepped up to the throne and when he held up his hands, the crowd silenced. The blond man spoke, but Trowa could not make out the words. It wasn't important, he knew that. The words did not matter. The only thing that really mattered was the arrow that suddenly appeared as if out of thin air, speeding towards the blond man near the throne of wood and light. The moment it hit, the throne suddenly turned dark. The people screamed and Trowa felt panic welling up inside him. From where the throne had darkened suddenly bright light appeared, this time yellow and red and hot. Flames! And they spread like wildfire.

The room got thick with smoke and heat and it was all Trowa could do to turn around and run for it. The wooden door from before appeared again, still standing ajar and Trowa bolted for it, throwing himself back into the dark, grey corridor where the smoke didn't reach, the temperature was normal and no sound from the scene he had just witnessed seemed to penetrate. Behind him, the wooden door dissolved.

Trowa looked left, wanting to continue his journey through the corridor, but to his surprise that way was blocked now by a solid wall. That was not the way, it seemed. So he turned right and again he saw the familiar garden. Only this time, when he stepped towards it, it did not disappear. He seemed to step right in the middle of it.

Trowa did not question it. He just stepped forward, following the path that led past the castle towers towards the benches. After just a few steps he found his way blocked by a boulder and suddenly he felt very tired. He was so tired that his legs gave way under him and he could barely catch himself in time to prevent falling down. Exhausted, he let himself slip to the floor. And then she appeared. She stood on the other side of the boulder, a woman with brown, wavy hair and clothed in a simple gown of browns and greens. Her expression was peaceful, smiling.

"I've been looking for you." She said and Trowa noticed the woman was holding a cup in her hands. She stepped past the boulder towards him and knelt at his side, holding out the cup towards him. Trowa, still quite tired, stretched out his hand, but instead of handing him the cup, she gently poured the water over his fingers. It made no sense, but the woman just smiled. "We should meet." She said. Then she stood up again and her figure started to fade.

The woman was still smiling. "Find me, Trowa," she said, her soft voice resonating gently, "and I will find you." Then she dissolved into blackness and so did the rest of the world.

* * *

Most of the time the Shinigami was a surprisingly pleasant addition to the work force. Officially they were not allowed to call him 'Shinigami', they were to use the name the master had given him –Duo- but Hilde still occasionally thought of him as the one called 'Shinigami'. He did not seem as much a threat as the name implied, but that malicious glint in his eyes she sometimes caught at the simplest things made her remember where the nickname came from. It was like he was always thinking about how to escape this place.

He never actually tried to run. Hilde knew Miss Helen and the cook were always keeping a close eye on the newest addition to the household, but Duo did as he was told while entertaining them with amusing one-liners. Hilde could never quite remember them, but she admired the ease with which this young man appeared to wrap the servants around his fingers and envied the young slave for his wits.

Yet always at the end of the meals he served, Duo's mood would grow noticeably darker and his remarks sarcastic. She knew it was because it meant he would be chained to that wall again in Master Heero's bedroom and though she could understand why his mood changed, that did not mean she liked it when he took it out on her.

She did not even remember what he'd said that morning which had annoyed her –she let go of such things quite easily- but apparently Duo did remember when she came by Master Heero's room to pick up the laundry.

"Hey Hilde, look," he started, bending down to help her pick up the laundry. She'd noticed before that he was not always chained, but had never asked. Though she knew talking to him was easy, they rarely spoke of anything that meant anything. "I'm sorry for what I said to you this morning. It wasn't very nice."

She took the clothes from him and shrugged. "It's alright," she answered.

"No, I was being an asshole," Duo continued, catching a piece of undergarment that fell from the pile and handed it to her. "I shouldn't have said that. It's just... I envy you sometimes, you know."

"You envy me?" Hilde looked up at Duo, who was slightly taller than she was and she frowned.

"Well, yeah," he answered. "The ease with which you take orders and just go do them."

"So I can do as I'm told," Hilde snorted. "Big deal. A dog can do that."

"It's more that you never seem to do anything wrong," Duo tried.

Hilde shrugged. "I've been here a while." Housework had never taken her long to get used to. You just needed to forget the specifics for the previous master and instead learn the ones of the new master.

"No, I mean..." The Shinigami sighed. "I don't know. It's just... You seem just fine with everything."

Ah, so that was what he was going for. She decided not to answer, for she feared that if she did, he might get into his bad mood early this lunchtime. Unfortunately, he decided her silence meant he could elaborate.

"How do you just accept what they tell you to do, how do you just go where they point? They say 'jump' you jump. How can you not resist that?"

Hilde shrugged. "It gets me food and a bed," she mumbled quietly.

"Free people get more food and a better bed for less work," the Shinigami pointed out. "So why settle for working your ass off for some scraps and a couple of blankets and a beating if you don't get it all finished in time?"

Hilde stared at the clothes she was holding and said nothing for a moment. When she spoke, it was quiet. "I knew a couple of free people once," she started. "They were good people, they ran this little shop. I used to go there for my previous job. They had five kids, the eldest in his teens and a sixth kid on the way when a huge storm hit the village, destroyed their shop.

"I didn't see them again and that winter my master sold me. He couldn't afford to keep me anymore because the storm had destroyed one of his businesses. On my way to a new home in a new village, all of a sudden there they were, on the side of the road, so dirty I barely recognised them. They all looked near starved, wearing rags filthier than I'd ever worn in my life and they were begging travellers for some coin. The newborn baby looked near-dead.

"A storm took my job and my home away and it took their job and home away. Yet I was sent to a new job, given a new roof over my head while the free people were left on the streets to fend for themselves." She was silent for a moment, thinking about that family, wondering what had happened to them. She knew she would never find out, but she hoped very much they were alright.

The Shinigami looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "So... you're saying you're fine with it because it gets you food and a bed?" He asked, sounding disapprovingly.

Hilde shrugged. "It's the way it is," she answered simply. "I'd really rather not dwell on dreams when life here's not so bad."

"But..." Duo sighed. "The thought of living like this for the rest of your life, being tossed around, ordered around, never having a thought of your own. How can you just accept that so easily?"

"I have my own thoughts," Hilde said, shifting her load of laundry. "Like I said, being free comes with risks too. And you'd still have to work. Maybe it is work you choose for yourself and maybe that makes all the difference, I don't know. I've never known anything else and I get to live in a beautiful house and I like working for Miss Helen. She's nice."

"She's not so bad," Duo agreed, to Hilde's surprise. She knew he got along with her well enough, but she hadn't expected the Shinigami to admit that. "But it's not freedom."

Hilde sighed. This conversation was going in circles. "Look, I have some errands to run," she said apologetically. "I have to go now, okay?"

"Right." He said. "Wouldn't want to keep The Master waiting." He always spoke mockingly of Master Yuy when they were alone.

Hilde turned to leave, but at the door she glanced back. "I think you should give him a chance," she said. "Like I said, you could have done much worse."

Instead of the scowl she'd expected, he just seemed to look thoughtful. Not agreeable, but still. Well, Hilde had no time to dwell on it. She had work to do.

* * *

Executions here in the east were definitely something else. Back home they served as a way for people to regain lost honour for their families. Had you done something shameful that tarnished your family name you could commit suicide to save the rest of the family from that shame and to wash clean your name. It depended on your misstep whether public suicide was demanded in those cases. The unwilling could be executed as well. Murderers, wife-takers and traitors were punished with death. Those executions were often public and they consisted of death through beheading or by the knife. But never it was a display such as he had seen here. The heir to the Seat of Chang had never imagined a death could bring him near vomiting, but these hangings Lord Broden had spoken so fondly of were really much more than just executions.

Oh the sentenced ones were hanged alright, pulled up by a rope around their neck, hands tied behind their back so they had no way of freeing themselves. This happened after they were dragged by their wrists to the execution site behind a cart pulled by horses. By the time they were hanged they were already dirty and bloody from being dragged through the city over dirt and brick paved roads alike.

But hanging wasn't the end of it. No, Wu Fei of Chang should have realised there would be more to it than that. Death would not seize the ones who were hanging. Instead they would be taken down only moments before the blackness could take them and then the real gore began. Their insides would be cut out. Most men were lucky enough to die at that stage, but some lived on long enough to watch as their own insides were burned. Then, dead or alive, the body would be tied an arm to a horse, a leg to a horse and the horses would be sent off in four different directions. The body would be torn apart.

The brutality of these people surprised even the Lord of Chang. The longer the sentenced survived, the louder the people would cheer. It seemed completely unnecessary to waste so much time just to bring a man to his death. He could understand wanting to dishonour someone, make sure they would never reach the Eternal Gardens, but this just seemed to be overdoing it, really. The why of it all was completely lost to him. Even Lord Broden had not been able to help him understand. He had cheered as hard as any and seemed amused by Wu Fei's complete lack of understanding. He had tried to cheer him up by explaining that this way was only for the common folk. Apparently for nobles a much simpler beheading was the current fashion.

He thought he understood why the lords Yuy did not care much for these displays, though. Both lords were much too practical to appreciate it. They were the kind of people who would rather deal with situations swiftly and efficiently -a trait Wu Fei could certainly appreciate- and those executions were all but that.

The day was not completely wasted, however. Against all odds Wu Fei had found the one thing this country had in common with his home.

Whores.

Lord Broden had taken Wu Fei to the whoring district and while he had no interest in these pale, dragon killer women, he'd found it an interesting fact that they were there. Apparently pleasure servants could be found in any land of any time. In this one they even had males for the service.

That reminded Wu Fei of the slave-in-training which Lord Heero Yuy kept in his bedroom. It was of course none of his business what the other lord did in his private chambers and in his own time, but Wu Fei suspected that this particular slave was kept in that room for a specific reason. No, he would not wonder. At best he would pity the boy for the fate the Gods had bestowed upon him, for he seemed unable to accept it.

Speaking of the boy. "Should you be wasting your master's time by watching me?" The western lord was practising his katas in the Yuy mansion's backyard when he noticed a certain braided slave watching him. This wasn't the first time he had noticed, the boy had first spotted him here three days ago and yesterday he'd been watching as well.

"Don't got no chores to do."

Startled, Wu Fei nearly missed a step. The boy dared speak to him? Normally the ones labelled slaves quickly scurried away the moment they realised he'd noticed them. Even the servants only stayed around if a question needed answering. This boy, however, just stood there, leaning against the wall, watching him look back and now he was speaking to him. Wu Fei paused and turned to the boy, looking him over head to toe. The young man looked scrawny at first sight, but at a second glance, Wu Fei noticed he was far from weak. In fact, the way he was standing there, looking straight back at him he had an air about him that was defiant, almost challenging. The haughty look he gave Wu Fei would suit a noble.

Yet Wu Fei had seen the opposite as well. He had seen how this boy submitted to his master and though the whole concept of slavery still mostly eluded him, he knew Lord Yuy held control over this boy. On a few occasions the slave had joined them in the library. The way Lord Yuy played with the slave's hair when they sat together was intriguing to observe. The smallest tug could mean the difference between a playful touch and a warning and the slave was always well aware which of the two it was, even when Wu Fei's trained eyes could not see. When the boy served at mealtimes the Western Master had witnessed the same occurrence. While Lord Heero seemed to ignore the slave entirely, he also managed to warn him with a flick of a finger and the boy would know exactly what it meant.

The dynamics between those two were definitely fascinating. Right now Wu Fei didn't know if he should be insulted or amused at the boy's answer. So he continued his kata, suddenly very much aware that he was being watched.

"Why do you continue to stand there?" He asked. Turning to the boy when the kata was finished.

The boy seemed to consider his answer for a moment. "I ain't never seen anyone make movements like that."

"It is called a 'kata'," Wu Fei explained. "It trains the body and the mind."

"Train?" The slave asked, now pushing himself away from the door frame looking interested. "What you training?"

The boy was indeed nothing like the servants Wu Fei had encountered so far. He was even asking him questions now. "Fighting," Wu Fei replied carefully.

The boy snorted. "Ain't never seen anyone fight like that," he said disbelievingly. "You moved way too slow. You would lose."

"I have no opponent," Wu Fei answered, narrowing his eyes at the remark. "Why would I hurry?"

The boy looked startled for a moment, then he burst out laughing. It made Wu Fei frown, but the boy stopped and suddenly threw him a testing look. "So if you had an opponent you'd fight faster?"

The challenge did not go unnoticed and even though this was just a servant –or perhaps _because_ of that- Wu Fei answered "Do you want proof?" The boy kept on smiling. "Very well. Attack me."

No hesitation. Wu Fei liked that. He was fast, too. But not fast enough and completely open. Wu Fei easily stepped aside, avoided the fist that came swinging at his previous position and instead used the boy's own momentum to guide him off balance, throwing him to the floor on his back. He restrained him long enough for the boy to realise he had lost and then let him go and stepped back.

The look of complete incomprehension of what had just happened was priceless and Wu Fei resisted the urge to laugh, just settled on a smirk instead. The servant pushed himself to a sitting position and rubbed his head. He wasn't in pain, for Wu Fei had controlled the throw to avoid damage. "Well, that was embarrassing," the boy muttered, then pushed himself up, still looking like he had no idea what the hell just happened. "So, can you teach me how to do that?"

Wu Fei frowned at the question. "If you're certain you can spare the time."

* * *

Today had been a sweltering day and even in the evening the heat would not let up. The summer was coming along nicely, meaning that even a building as large as the Yuy estate had few cool spots left. Heero's office was located near a window so as to fully enjoy the daylight while he worked, but that also meant he felt the full blast of a hot day like today. The young Yuy lord had been perspiring almost non-stop since this morning. Even Master Wu Fei, who'd often explained he was used to much warmer weather during summertime than anything he had see here was complaining about the humidity and had taken to work from the library instead, where the lack of direct exposure to the outside world cooled the space by a few degrees.

Heero was training his Shinigami with the blindfold again tonight, but the slave just didn't seem very willing to co-operate. He'd already taken the thing off once today even though they'd only been at it for perhaps ten minutes and would have done it a second time if Heero hadn't warned him against it. Any order Heero gave him was obeyed sluggishly, even the smallest movement Duo made would cause him to sweat. Finally Heero just settled on making him kneel for a couple of minutes with the blindfold in place.

But truth be told, Heero wasn't really enjoying the training either today. On the first floor the temperature seemed worse than downstairs, even when the sun was blocked by the few clouds the sky produced. Even though it was evening and the temperature was slowly dropping, being inside was still not very comfortable.

"You may remove it." Even in removing the blindfold from his eyes the slave did not hurry, which was a small wonder. Duo despised the thing and he hated Heero for making him wear it anyway. "Put it away."

So what to do now? The evening was still young and Heero had plenty of work that wanted his attention, but all pressing matters had been taken care of and the young lord simply did not feel like working any more in this heat. It was a rare thing for Heero to not feel like working, but he'd listen to the feeling when he could afford it.

Today was just too hot to stay inside. "Come," he said to his slave when the boy finished putting the blindfold away and he started for the door leading outside. Duo looked surprised that they were not going into the sitting room, but he followed, probably thinking it was too hot to protest at the break in his routine.

The sun was still up, though slowly lowering itself to make way for the night. Dusk was still a while away, though. In summertime the days were long and the nights short. With the temperature gradually decreasing and a small breeze in the air it was a fine evening to be outside and that was where he was going. He took a more secluded path through the garden which headed towards the eastern edge if his estate's land. Every now and then he checked if Duo was still following.

"Looking for ways to escape?" The young lord asked casually when he saw the slave carefully studying the surroundings.

"Right, like you won't stop me with that damned crystal of yours," Duo answered. "Bet it can do long range too."

"Indeed." Truth be told Heero had no idea how far the crystal's power reached, but he wasn't going to inform the Shinigami of that.

Heero pressed on until finally they reached a small grass clearing leading to a river bank. The other side of the river was where the Yuy grounds ended. Heero liked this place for its seclusion as well as the memories it held. This was where his mother had taught him how to swim.

A small bench stood underneath a tree and Heero took a seat on it, motioning for Duo to sit by his feet, then leaned back to enjoy the summer view. On the far side of the river, just outside the Yuy estate stood a large oak tree. The tree was older than the mansion Heero lived in, if he should believe the stories, and its lowest branches hung perhaps four feet above the ground.

Another fond memory came to him, one where Prince Quatre and himself crossed the river and hid in the tree, because they didn't want Quatre to have to go home yet. They'd stayed there until nightfall while the Yuy guards and the Royal guards searched the entire grounds for them. But by the time darkness fell the crown prince had been too afraid to cross the water. Heero had told him that it would be alright, that he knew the river like the back of his hand, but Quatre had refused to come and had actually pulled rank on him when he demanded they go round the river to the nearest bridge across, which was a good mile away. Heero vaguely remembered his bottom hurting for a week after that stunt and Quatre acting very tentative as well when the tutor told them to sit down. At the time the young lord had found it quite unfair that they got punished. How were they supposed to know those stupid guards assumed something serious had happened to the only male heir and future of the country?

Even though he was seated in the shade Heero was still sweating. The breeze didn't quite seem to reach them here. Duo appeared to be faring better, leaning back against the bench with his eyes closed, but then the slave didn't wear such thick layers as Heero did. He decided to remove his shoes and stockings. Bare feet on the grass felt a little odd, but at least it was cool. He'd better not let his father see him like this, though. Heero was all for dressing properly, but out here in this particular secluded spot he didn't think anyone would see them. And even if they did, what would they do, disobey him until he wore his shoes again? It wasn't as if people wouldn't recognise him.

The young lord leaned back against the tree again to enjoy the quiet. He should have brought a book. He took far too little time reading these days, being too busy with work. He couldn't even remember the last time he had finished a book. Must have been at least before he acquired the Shinigami.

And still he was sweating. With a sigh, Heero stood up. "Can you swim?" He asked the slave.

"No," Duo answered curtly, looking up at him suspiciously.

But Heero just shrugged. "Too bad." He took off his shirt, dropped it where he stood and walked to the river bank. The water was cold on first touch, but Heero relished the chill. Carefully he stepped into the river to let his feet get used to the temperature. Then he secured the crystal in his pocket and, in a spur, he made a dive forwards, submerging himself completely for a few seconds before coming up again. The river, though not very wide here, deepened steeply and he only needed two strokes before he couldn't reach the bottom anymore without going head under. He didn't stay in the water long, just took a few good dives to cool his body off before he swam back to the riverbank. He had an untrustworthy slave sitting there, after all. Correction, laying.

Duo had moved further into the grass to a spot where the sun reached, and laid down on his back. He'd pushed up the legs of his trousers and the sleeves of his shirt and had tucked his hands behind his head. His eyes were closed, but Heero noticed the slight movement of his head as he stepped out of the water.

"You can remove some clothing if you like."

"You wish," the slave muttered indignantly.

"If I wish it, I'll order it," Heero assured him. He'd just wanted to offer him the choice. But as usual the boy seemed adamant to do whatever he thought would please Heero the least.

Lord Yuy moved to lay down in the grass next to Duo, his arms outstretched. Content with his body temperature now, he closed his eyes.

The boy hardly ever stayed silent for long. "You sure you should be getting so comfortable around the Shinigami?"

Heero opened one eye too look at him. "Hmm?"

"I picked your pocket before." Duo had turned on his side and was looking at him with a menacing smile. "If you fall asleep I might just do it again and make a run for it."

"Oh, I wasn't falling asleep," Heero said, closing his eye again.

"You're letting your guard down." It sounded almost accusingly.

"Am not." If his guard had been down, it definitely wasn't anymore. Over the past five months Heero had gotten to know the Shinigami well enough to recognise that look. The boy was up to something.

The attack wasn't an attempt on his life. The true Shinigami worked from the shadows, taking its victims down at night. Heero's knighthood training kicked in adequately the moment he heard the boy next to him move. In a reflex he moved out of the way of a well-aimed kick and dodged the punch that followed. The second punch was aimed for his gut, but Heero deflected it, caught Duo's wrist and threw the slimmer figure down on the grass next to him, rolling on top of him. He pinned the boy's wrists to the ground and used his weight to restrain the rest of his body.

Had this been the true Shinigami coming out, he wouldn't be surrendering so easily, nor smirking up at him like that. The boy had merely been playing, telling his master he did not appreciate being taken so lightly. The Shinigami had a reputation and though he knew Heero could have him on the floor begging for mercy with just a simple touch, he still wanted that reputation to hold. He needed that reputation to hold. He didn't want to be seen as some meek, fragile little thing that would obey every order with pride. He wanted to be seen as a dangerous animal, a monster, waiting in the shadows. That was where his pride came from. That was why, every now and then he would put up a show like this.

And Heero made him pay for it every time.

"So, you thought just because I closed my eyes you could take me?" Heero gave his slave an intimidating look. "You think I'm weak?"

"You're not weak," the Shinigami admitted. "I'd almost go so far as to call you a worthy opponent."

Heero chuckled. "Perhaps you haven't noticed who's the one on top?" He asked.

"Only 'cause I let you," Duo grinned back cheekily.

"Oh, really?" Heero smirked. "Well then, I wonder what you'll do if I do this." He brought the boy's wrists together above his head so he could pin them with one hand. The hand he freed now moved to Duo's shirt, swiftly sliding under it, pushing it up.

Duo's grin faded, turned into a spirited scowl. "Hey!" He tried to struggle some, but Heero held him down easily, letting his hand roam over the boy's chest. Duo absolutely hated it when Heero explored his body, even though the master had yet to take advantage of him. Heero ignored the struggles. The Shinigami knew this was the price he would pay. And it wasn't Heero's fault that the remote location would make it that much easier to mess with the boy's mind.

"Oh, now you protest?" Heero shook his head. "Too bad, should have thought of that earlier."

The Shinigami twisted his body, catching Heero off-guard, but he managed to prevent being thrown off by supporting his own weight with the hand on the boy's chest, pressing him down at the same time.

Heero leaned down until his face was no more than an inch from Duo's scowling features. "I think someone is in need of a reminder."

The slave's eyes held no fear, for he had gotten to know his master over these past five months as well. He was familiar with this display of power, he knew what would come and though it might involve some humiliation for only the two of them to witness, if he didn't fight too hard there would be no real pain. He'd come out of it with his pride intact. The outside world would not need to know. It was between a master and his slave.

"Who am I?"

"You're the bastard holding me down," Duo answered defiantly.

"Hmm, wrong answer." Heero pushed the slave's shirt further up and moved his hand towards a nipple. "Try again." He said, pinching it.

"You're some jerk who thinks he's in charge."

"A jerk, am I?" Heero chuckled darkly. "Alright, I'll be a jerk." He pressed his nail into his slave's chest and slowly drew it down. The boy breathed tensely and tried to struggle, but he made no sound. Heero drew his nail all the way down to the slave's belly button, a thin white line forming in its wake. "Who am I?"

"Heero Yuy." Daring.

"What am I to you?"

"Nobody."

Too bold. Heero brought his hand back to the boy's nipple and pinched it harder this time and twisted. "What am I to you?"

"Ah!" It was a nasty sensation for the slave, not painful, but a warning. "You're the one in charge!"

Heero drew a circle around the nipple. "Try again."

"You're the one holding me down."

"Not good enough." He always had trouble saying the word. "What am I to you?" He spoke the words more slowly now, indicating he was beginning to lose his patience.

"Damn it," the slave swore. "You're my master."

Indeed. Heero let up the pressure on the boy's nipple "And what are you to me?"

"What the..." Heero hadn't asked that one before.

"You heard me." Heero looked down, capturing his slave's gaze.

"I'm Shinigami," the boy answered defiantly.

Heero narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't answer my question." He moved his hand back up again to take one of the boy's wrists. "What are you to _me_." He asked, slowly moving one arm down.

"Nothing."

"Wrong," Heero nearly growled. "Think again," he said as he started to twist the boy's wrist. If he didn't submit and answer quickly, this would hurt.

"Ah!" The boy gritted his teeth and said nothing for a while, until finally he let out a hiss. "Yours!" He said quickly. "I'm yours!"

Heero blinked. An unexpected answer that was. Interesting. But he had to admit the slave was right. "Good." Without further hesitation he released the boy and pushed himself off him. "Remember it."

It had been Duo who'd started the game. That he was glaring now because of the outcome wasn't Heero's fault. The boy had known it would end with Heero asserting his dominance until he was satisfied. The young lord lay back down on the grass again, looking up at the sky. His skin had dried by now, but it was too hot yet to go back inside. For a few minutes the slave next to him didn't move, but then Heero heard him shift and a glance told him the boy was laying down in the grass again as well.

For a while neither of them spoke. The Shinigami was locked back up inside the boy's mind for the remainder of the evening and Duo always needed some time to recover from that. Since they had the time, Heero let him.

"The moon's up." A neutral comment to break the silence. Apparently the boy had recovered.

"Hnn?" Heero looked aside at Duo, who pointed up towards the sky.

"There."

A white sphere faintly emerged from behind a cloud. That was what the moon looked like in a summer's eve, when the sun settled after the moon had already risen. It was a natural phenomenon.

"Your guest lord said the other day that where he comes from summer and winter days are almost just as long." Heero remembered the conversation. "D'you think he's telling the truth?"

Heero shrugged. "Why would he lie?"

"Why not," Duo said. "Savages are different, right?"

"He's not a savage." There was a time Heero had thought that of western people as well, but having lived with one these past few months made him realise he had seen things wrong. Lord Wu Fei, heir to the seat of Chang was indeed much different from what they were like, but he had shown the ability to adapt to their way of life. He just came from a land with different habits. Why they didn't do things there the way people did here was not a question Heero knew the answer to, but 'savage' was not a word that seemed to fit.

Duo didn't seem to realise that yet, though. "He's different."

"So?" No two people were the same. It was true that Wu Fei was more different than most, but Heero guessed that in his own country he was considered normal.

"So he could be lying."

Heero looked at Duo. "If he is, it's none of your concern."

Duo sighed and for a moment didn't respond. Then he said "He's weird."

"He probably thinks we're weird," the young lord tried to explain.

"You think?" Duo looked at him with suspicion.

Heero nodded. "He doesn't understand half our customs."

"Like slavery," Duo pointed out.

A dangerous subject, but Heero would see for now. "For example."

"I don't understand it either," Duo complained.

"You don't like it," Heero corrected. "That's something different."

"Nuh uh. I don't understand it," Duo said stubbornly.

Heero didn't like where this conversation was heading and decided to end it. "Well, you don't have to understand. You just have to obey." A pitiless comment perhaps, but it was the truth.

Duo huffed, but he took it. "That sucks."

"Too bad."

"Yeah." For a moment Duo was silent. "So, why haven't you fucked me yet?"

Every now and then the boy would spring up that question. Heero decided not to even bother with any form of answer this time, for it began to annoy him. Instead he sat up and stretched. "It's time to get back."

* * *

princess/rlyblue

A weird dream for Trowa, Wu Fei agreeing to train Duo and Heero and Duo getting some leasure time. I particularily enjoyed writing the last part. I hope you liked reading it!

For those who want to know, I'll add some background as to how this story came to be. A long time ago I read a story in which Quatre became a slave to Trowa. In this story, Duo was a slave to Heero and it's mentioned that for Heero to have Duo co-operate with him, he'd first have to show him that he wouldn't take his shit and then that Duo could have an allright life here. I found that a really interesting idea, but not much was said on that devellopment. So when I couldn't find a satisfying story where exactly that happened (suggestions are welcome) I figured I should write it myself. And so the idea for this story came to be. It was inspired by 'Golden Lights', written by SilverLady, also available on this site though unfortunately never finished.


	17. 16: Learning

To my reviewers: you're getting a pretty good idea of my story devellopment. It's really a compliment to me that you think so much about its progress.

I R Anonymous: I love your review! I agree with you on almost all points. I'd love to discuss it with you so if you are a member here, would you leave a signed review or drop me a pm? If not, you can just follow the end notes in the upcoming chapters where I will touch a little upon those subjects as well.

Thanks in earlier chapters.

Warnings: Punishment, nudity

* * *

**16: Learning**

They were staying in towns and cities now rather than villages. Trowa had protested, saying that villages were much cheaper to stay in, but Leia had just laughed at him and told him that she rarely paid anything to stay anywhere. And true enough, once they reached their first city it took her only one attempt to gain a room for free. It was a small room which they had to share, but two single beds were available and Trowa did not complain. In return for the free stay, Leia promised the innkeeper to entertain the guests tonight with her talents.

It didn't take Trowa long to figure out what exactly Leia had meant when she said having a man with her would make things easier for her. Usually when they entered an inn someone would come up to him, assuming he was the one in charge and she just some assistant. The first few times he'd pointed them on to her, but some of the innkeepers wouldn't believe him, or if they did, would make it much harder for them to strike a bargain.

"Sorry, guys, but women performing as gleemen? That just doesn't sell half as well. Can't spare you free beds and meals for that."

So after a good week Leia had decided to let Trowa barter instead.

Leia seemed to be travelling more east than north. The town they'd stayed in last night was one of the larger ones in the area and business had been good. They had performed in front of perhaps sixty people and had earned nearly four silvers last night. Definitely not bad for a night's work and Leia was quickly making friends with the innkeeper's wife. It would benefit her if she chose to travel this way again.

"I wouldn't go too far east if I were you." The innkeeper's wife was saying. "I've heard there's been several bandit attacks."

"Bandits?" Leia sounded more surprised than she actually was. They'd heard a tale or two before. But since east was their current direction, information would come in necessary.

"Yeah well, not for another fifty miles at least." The woman assured her. "More off to the south. Romens they say, probably deserters I would think. Romefeller's been making war with everyone but Elfor it seems."

"Tha's cus Elfor's too bloody strong for 'em, i'nnit?" The innkeeper shouted, coming down the stairs. "And what ya doin' woman, scarin' off the gleepeople with yer talk of war. Keep it up and they'll ne'er come back for fear."

"I'm tellin' 'er it ain't nearby, am I?" The woman retorted. Trowa had to strain to understand the accents in this region. It wasn't at all like what the nobles in the castle spoke and it was much different from the servants' speech as well, but he was getting better at it. "Anyway, I heard they're takin' on the mages from the North an' they're not doin' so well. Those mages got 'em dragons on their side now."

"Well, at least tha's keepin' them bloody magic folk an' their bloody dragons off our lands," the inkeeper said. "We had 'nough trouble with those bloody fire breathers 'fore them king had 'em all chased off."

"Now who's scarin' 'em off? Ya sound like ye r'member them ruddy dragons yerself, but they were way gone 'fore ya were born ya big oaf," the innkeeper's wife replied. "Ain't been no dragons here in our lifetime." She tried to assure Leia.

"Aye, I do r'member," answered the husband. "Was me still a li'l kid, but I'll ne'er forget the sight. Powerful creatures, them. Dangerous." The man shuddered.

"We'd better get on the road," Leia said apologetically. "I want to make a couple miles before lunchtime."

"Well, ye'r welcome back anytime, ya know," the innkeeper's wife replied. "Ye'r good fer business even if ye'r a woman. Who's ter say us womenfolk can't do anything any man can do. An' better than most of 'em in your case too."

"Don't go payin' her some compliments now, woman or next time she'll 'spect free meals fer her whole fam'ly," the husband complained. "I swear ye'll be drivin' this inn dead some day. And where's me ruddy breakfast?"

Leia chuckled softly as she headed outside and Trowa had to smile as he followed her. Their horses had already been gathered for them. "Colourful folk," Leia commented, mounting her horse.

"Indeed they are," Trowa said, seating himself in his saddle. "Where to now?"

"East," Leia said. "Where there's bandits there's villagers and merchants on the road wanting to get away from them."

"I was afraid of that," Trowa muttered, but spurred his horse to follow her.

* * *

"The question is simple, Lord Clark. Are your villages being raided or not?" The arrogant look the brown haired noble's, son Trant Clark, had worn upon arrival faltered under Heero Yuy's gaze and the man took a defensive step backwards.

"Minor incidents, My Lord," he answered quickly. "I assure you my father is dealing with them."

"How many?" Heero stared at the man intensely, trying very hard to hold on to what little patience he had left.

"How many what, My Lord?"

"How many raids?"

"Three in the last month, My Lord," the man admitted carefully. "Seven before that since the carnival."

"Ten villages this year alone." Heero looked down at his desk for a moment, gathering as much patience he could muster. "And why was I not informed of this before?"

"The bandits appear to be Romens, My Lord," the taller man answered quickly. "We're dealing with them accordingly."

Romefeller bandits crossing the borders to raid their villages? Romefeller was a small neighbouring nation. The country officially belonged to the Catalonia family, but everyone knew they were controlled by the ruthless Dermail who was using the Catalonian army to invade even smaller nations to their east. For now the country was small and involved in far too many conflicts to pose a threat to Elfor, but Prince Quatre was not wrong, in Heero's opinion, when he said they would need to keep a close watch on the Duke's activities.

"Let me guess, you contacted the Catalonias?" A nod indicated an affirmative. "And they told you that anything within our borders is our problem?" Another confirmation. Typical. "Then why was I not informed?!" Heero slammed his hand on his desk and glared hard at Trant Clark. "Ten raids on villages on our side of the border and the first I hear from it is from peasants begging the king himself for more protection during harvest time so they can reach your requested amount of crops?"

"The raids were getting fewer, My Lord!"

"Three raids in the last month alone!" Heero barked. "Did you not learn to count?"

"I'm sorry, My Lord!" The noble looked about ready to soil his pants. "I shall send all my knights to solve this problem!"

"Yes you will," Heero said. "And tomorrow when you return to the east you shall take fifty soldiers with you and you shall ride like a dragon is chasing you. You shall receive a hundred more in another two weeks. You shall report progress on a weekly basis and you shall be honest in your reports or my soldiers will tell the truth for you."

"Thank you, My Lord." The man looked anything but grateful, but he was smart enough not to anger the third most powerful person in the country any further.

"And when you return home you shall send your eldest son and daughter to the capital." Heero added promptly.

"Wh-what?" The man looked positively mortified.

"Your son shall spend the winter under the guidance of those who are competent enough to teach him the values of communication." It was a punishment for Trant's inadequate handling, but at the same time it would be used to forge the first bonds between the Clark heir and the capital. Hopefully that would benefit them in the future when the son took over from the father and it would help avoid such incidents as these.

"But my son, he's only seven years old, My Lord," the lower noble objected.

"Good. An early start of education might benefit him." The only ones who could prevent this arrangement were the king and the crown prince and they trusted Heero enough to handle things like this. "Your daughter, she is eight?"

"Nine, My Lord," Came the dejected answer.

"Old enough to join a household as a maid in waiting," Heero nodded.

"But My Lord, my wife..."

"Your wife shall do as you say and you shall do as I say." Heero interjected swiftly. "Or do I need to send a soldier to teach you how to control your wife as well?" Heero deliberately left out how he meant that threat. The young noble swallowed but said nothing at the insult. "You will report to the castle tomorrow at dawn for your fifty soldiers."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Dismissed."

Geoffrey led the trembling noble out of Heero's office and the young lord sat down with a sigh, rubbing his temple. He didn't like resorting to threats, but the further away the nobles reigned from the capital to stronger they seemed to believe they could get away with failing to report problems. Heero made a note to himself to find someone more trustworthy to oversee the situation in the east and began working on that order for fifty men to ride with Clark. He'd started gathering them weeks ago when he first learned of the troubles and the fifty were in the capital already, waiting for his word. Gathering another hundred so close to harvest time would take more time, but he would gather them closer to their destination. A hundred and fifty extra men was not a whole lot, but the eastern region was not densely populated. They would be enough.

The bandit incident left him annoyed but he felt himself calming down while he wrote the order for the fifty men to go. It was not the first incident where the lack of communication was unacceptable and it would not be the last. Heero wasn't too worried about the raids either. The perpetrators needed to be dealt with, true, but so far harvest did not seem to be in danger and they had enough food stockpiled should this escalate. So when Geoffrey came in with his afternoon cup of wine, Heero just put his seal on the order and handed it to the butler to be sent to the capital right away, feeling considerably more relaxed than he had before.

"Is there something on your mind, Geoffrey?" The butler had just turned to leave when Heero asked. It had been something in the always professional butler's expression that had caught Heero's eye, though he wasn't certain of what he had seen.

"It's nothing, Master Yuy," the butler replied with an evasive bow.

"Tell me anyway." The butler had a far better insight on what went on in Heero's household than the lord himself and Heero valued the man's input.

"Far be it for me to tell you, My Lord, how to deal with your personal servants."

The masked disgust in those last few words did not pass Heero by unnoticed. There was only one person in this household whom Geoffrey had disapproved of since the beginning and he was the only one for which the butler sometimes forgot his professional composure. "What has Duo done this time?"

"Nothing in particular, Sir," the butler replied. "It is my own shortcoming I fear," he went on when Heero kept looking at him. "I merely do not understand why you would allow the Shinigami of all people to be trained in fighting."

"Fighting?" This was news to Heero.

"With the Master Chang," Geoffrey answered. "He started training him days ago. I thought you were aware?"

"I wasn't." Heero all but growled as he got up. The Shinigami being trained to fight was something Heero would never be foolish enough to allow. The slave was far too dangerous without proper training. He shuddered to think what the boy could do with it.

"Well, they're at it right now, Sir," Geoffrey answered. "I saw them near the rose garden."

Heero started for the door, checking his pocket for the crystal, which was there of course. "Geoffrey, send some guards to the rose garden. Tell them to stay out of sight unless he gives me trouble." He had a slave to deal with, and apparently an outlander Lord to speak to as well.

The scene he witnessed when he arrived was not pleasing at all. The future Master of Chang was standing next to the Shinigami, making fighting moves, explaining them. And... Was that a knife? It was small, but it looked definitely sharp.

This was unacceptable. Heero strode out into his back yard. He'd barely taken two steps before Wu Fei noticed him and he moved to intercept, but Heero just held up his hand and strode past him towards Duo, who turned to look at him, his face alarmed. Heero's one hand found the slave's braid near the scalp, the other closed around the wrist of his knife hand. With a quick rotating motion he pulled the slave round, forcing him down on his knees. "Drop the knife."

"Lord Yuy, please hear me."

Heero ignored the Western lord's words and twisted the slave's wrist. "Drop it!"

With a cry of pain, the slave let go of the knife and it fell to the grass. Heero let go of him with a shove into the direction of the house and moved to pick up the knife. "Get upstairs."

"Lord Yuy, it was my fault." Wu Fei of Chang tried again and Heero glanced at him, his hand going for his pocket.

"Nuh uh, no way." Duo got to his feet rubbing his sore wrist.

"Upstairs now."

Heero's voice was cold as ice, but the slave shook his head, staying just out of Heero's immediate reach. "I wasn't meaning anything, I just-"

But Heero cut him off by using the crystal. With a shriek of pain the slave fell to his knees again. After a few seconds, Heero stopped the pain. "Believe me you do not want me to have you dragged upstairs." He said dangerously.

"Damn you!" The slave muttered frustratedly and he spat at the grass, but then pushed himself up and angrily headed inside.

When the boy was out of sight and the guards Geoffrey had sent followed after him to see to it he didn't go anywhere but upstairs, Heero turned to face the other lord and held up the knife. "This is yours?"

"Yes."

Heero handed the weapon back to Wu Fei. "I expect you to go through me before you decide to teach him anything."

Wu Fei pocketed the knife. "I was just showing him how to defend himself."

"And I don't recall giving permission for that," Heero answered.

The outlander lord looked up at him, frowning. "He needs permission to learn how to defend himself?" He asked disapprovingly.

"He doesn't need to defend himself," Heero corrected him.

Wu Fei narrowed his eyes. "What if someone wishes to harm him?"

"Then it's my duty to protect him."

"And if you fail?"

"I won't."

"Really?" Wu Fei asked. "What if you die and they move on to him?"

This was getting him nowhere. The man just did not understand what slavery entailed. "Do you know what the word 'Shinigami' means?"

"No, I never..."

"It means God of Death." Heero paused a moment to let that sink in. "It became his nickname after several of his previous owners died under suspicious circumstances."

"He killed them?" Lord Wu Fei glanced in the direction the slave had disappeared, surprise evident on his face.

"If that could be proven, he wouldn't still be breathing."

"I see." The Western lord hesitated a moment before he spoke again. "I apologise. I did not realise your rules. The fault was mine."

Heero nodded in acceptance of the apology but said nothing, just turned to head inside.

"You're still going to punish him?" Wu Fei called after him.

"Yes."

"But I told you it was my fault. I offered him training."

"And he took it." Heero still did not pause in his step.

"Because I offered it."

Heero sighed and stopped, turned to face the other lord. Sometimes it was really frustrating that this man was so completely unaware of their customs. "Your mistake was ignorance," he said simply. "Your apology is accepted. But _he_ cannot claim ignorance, he is damn well aware of the rules." The other lord opened his mouth, but Heero hurried on. "I will deal with him as I see fit." The finality in that statement was unmistakable and the other lord apparently realised it as well, for he closed his mouth disapprovingly, but backed off. Satisfied, Heero continued to his bedroom.

Duo had seated himself on the wooden chair, but the moment Heero came in he stood up. "Master, I swear I didn't mean anything with it," he started, "that guy just offered to show me and I didn't want to disappoint him, cuz he's your guest, right?"

A load of bull from a slave trying to save his own hide. The young lord could see the lie in the boy's features. Heero's hand had been on the crystal since he entered, having been unsure whether he was entering a rabbit's hole or a lion's den, but it seemed to be somewhere in between. "Shut up." Heero gave him a warning look.

The boy quieted, uncertain of the situation, glancing at Heero's pants where he knew lay the crystal that could bring him to his knees with just a simple touch. Heero felt annoyed, but the worst of his anger, which had flared up when he saw Duo handling a knife, had subsided during the discussion with his guest lord. Now he merely intended to do what needed to be done and if Duo wanted to avoid pain he should cooperate. The boy seemed to comprehend that much at least.

"Slaves don't use knives," Heero began.

"Some do," Duo interjected, but a quick brush over the crystal and a hard wince silenced him.

"Slaves don't get to fight. Slaves belong to their owners. They don't get to defend themselves unless express permission is given. You've been owned before. You know the rules."

The slave shuddered and took a step back.

Heero crossed his arms. "How long has this been going on?"

"Just today." Another obvious lie. A brush over the crystal. A swallowed cry. Wu Fei had been here for two months already and Heero needed know how much the boy had learned. "A couple of times!" Duo answered quickly. "Three or four."

"How many is it?"

"Four," the slave admitted. Was he telling the truth? Heero thought he was and the story fit with what Geoffrey had told him. The boy would lie if he thought he could get away with it, though. Heero would check with Wu Fei.

"Fold your blankets and put them on the table."

The slave frowned at the order, but Heero was not going to give him space to resist. Duo jumped at the familiar stab from the shackles and quickly obeyed.

"Undress."

He was about to hesitate again, but something about the way Heero was looking at him must have told him he would be naked whether he cooperated or not, for he quickly moved to pull his shirt off. He deliberately stalled when he came to the pants, but Heero just kept throwing him a level look.

"Fold the clothes. Put them with the blankets." The boy obeyed. "Up against the wall." Heero nodded to the spot where the chains exited the wall. Duo looked at him warily but moved to where Heero wanted him.

The young lord looked at his slave for a moment. Dare he attempt to do this without chaining him up first? The slave was studying him with so much suspicion. If he managed to get the crystal from Heero while he was not yet chained down, things could get out of hand. But then again, Heero had to establish his true dominance over this one sooner or later. Was this the moment? Did the slave trust him enough? Had Heero enough weight over him already or would this be where things would explode? Heero could feel the excitement in his veins, could feel every one of his senses alert as he stepped towards the slave who backed up against the wall.

Was it the look of a cornered animal? No, he knew what The Shinigami looked like when it was cornered. These eyes held cohesion. Still, he could not afford to drop his guard. The boy had picked his pocket before.

He was but an inch away from the boy's naked body when he stopped, his eyes never letting go of Duo's. The slave shuddered when Heero slowly raised a hand but otherwise stayed frozen. He barely flinched when the master gently touched his cheek, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"You are mine," Heero said quietly, possessively. "I will do with you what I please, I will make you do what I want." Every nerve in his body seemed to be in overdrive as he continued to hold Duo's gaze and his hand moved down along Duo's cheek towards his throat. He could feel himself respond down there as well, but he ignored it for now. "I will make you feel pain when I want." The boy tensed even more, but did not move. Heero was vaguely aware the slave was holding his breath. "But only when _I_ want."

Heero put his hand flat on the boy's chest, applying some pressure, but not enough to give the feeling of restraint. The slave's eyes were showing something which Heero could almost mistake for fear. Oh, how he regretted his vow to wait for the boy to come to his bed willingly. "Anyone who comes near you uninvited will have to deal with me," he continued in the same quiet, controlled voice. "Anyone who lays a finger on you without my express permission will come to regret it dearly. Anyone who harms you while you are in my possession will curse the day they were born."

Both of Heero's hands grabbed a wrist and started pulling them up. The slave made a weak attempt to resist, but Heero's tight grip would not allow it. He brought the hands up along the wall and pinned them next to the boy's head. "I will never allow you to wield a weapon. I will never allow you to fight."

He could hear his slave's heartbeat, fast, nervous and he could feel his own, slower, in control, but wanting. The slave had heard every word he said and though he might not believe the words yet, he was well aware of who was in charge here. "So long as you are mine, you will not have to kill anyone again."

Heero let go of the boy entirely and stepped back. The slave looked startled, confused and the young lord wondered if the boy was realising that by letting this pass he had bent just a little further again. Step by step he was being manipulated into becoming what he had vowed he would never become. Step by step the wild beast was being tamed.

Better move on while the boy was too confused to make sense of anything. Heero picked up the chains and attached them to the boy's collar and cuffs. The slave barely reacted, his eyes focussed on the floor, his chest the only part of him that was moving. Heero near fully retracted the chains. The hands being forced back to the wall made the boy look up. Lord Yuy did not know what the expression in his slave's eyes meant, but it did not matter. "For a night and a day you will remain naked and defenceless." The boy's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak. "You will remember that you have no right to protect yourself. That is _my_ job." Satisfied with the spirit slowly returning to those eyes, Heero left the room.

* * *

Master Wu Fei, heir to the Seat of Chang knew when to back out of other people's territory. Even though he did not understand why the servant was not allowed to train, he also understood it was Lord Yuy's decision to make and so he had stepped aside and let the man deal with it.

But it frustrated him to no end! Cultural differences aside, this was a moral matter to him more than anything else. To not allow someone to defend his own life when the time came, that was just a selfish, shameful act. Everyone had the right to defend him or herself. Even children were expected to learn how to fight! Were the people in this land really so arrogant that they believed fighting would never be necessary?

Wu Fei was really struggling to accept that. And what was worse, now because of his actions the servant was being punished. The western lord had no idea what was a regular punishment in the Yuy household, but he figured it would involve pain from the way Lord Heero had threatened the boy.

Wu Fei decided he wanted to see for himself. He'd been sent here to learn and this slavery concept was something so alien to him that even after two months he still did not understand. Lord Yuy's point of view didn't make it any more clear to him, nor did Lord Broden's explanation, nor even that of Prince Quatre. He needed another point of view, one not from a noble. That had been why he had agreed to teach the boy. He had thought that perhaps if he could spend some time around the boy, he would come to understand the dynamics more, learn what it was really about.

Strangely enough, though, he felt he owed the boy an apology. Back home he would not even consider apologising to a servant, a working class. Back home he would never volunteer to teach a worker how to fight. They had other people for that, within their own class. But then again, back home no servant would dare talk to Wu Fei the way this boy had, like they were equals. Back home a servant would have been ashamed to admit they were trying to spend time with someone as high up as the heir to the Seat, they'd be considered presumptuous and that was a not a virtue.

Yet on this occasion he had sought out the boy, not the other way around. He had asked the servant if he wanted to learn, the worker had not requested it of him. That must be why Wu Fei was right now making his way up the stairs, to Lord Yuy's private chambers where he guessed he would find the slave. It was where he was usually left.

The western lord checked the study first, but the servant was not there, nor could he be found in the sitting room. That only left Lord Yuy's bedroom.

Wu Fei had not actually been forbidden to enter the bedroom. In fact Lord Yuy had often told him that the house was open to him where he wished to go. That made it easier, but it was still not a comfortable thought to enter the Lord's private bedchamber. Well, if he wanted to make certain the boy had not been harmed on his account, he'd better just get it over with.

He'd never been inside the lord's bedchamber before. It looked remarkably similar to his own, with only a few personal effects. He was surprised to see a tapestry of a knight and a dragon –the dragon killers had no dragons anymore, after all- but reminded himself that was not why he was here. He had come to see the boy. And see him he did.

It was not a sight he had expected. To the wall on his right the servant was standing in all his glory, looking back at him in surprise. He just stood there, naked and gaping, not even bothering to cover up his privates!

Wait, it didn't look like he could cover himself. No, the way he held his hands... Upon closer inspection, Wu Fei noticed the chain attached to the wrist cuff he could see from here. It appeared to be fastened to the wall. Correction, it seemed to go _inside_ the wall.

"Uhh, were you– Were you looking for the master?"

Startled, Wu Fei drew his attention back to why he was here, averting his gaze. "Ah, no, I was ahh... Actually I was looking for you," he said, doing his best to stare at a nondescript spot on the wall so as to avoid having to embarrass the forcibly naked man.

"Well, you found me." The humour that Wu Fei usually found in the boy's voice was replaced by confusion. "But I don't think I can help ya with anything. Kinda tied up right now."

"Yeah, ah, I-I can see that." He was trying not to. He quickly glanced around the room and his eyes fell on some folded blankets. He quickly grabbed one of them and held it out for the boy, moving close enough that he could get it.

"What are you doing?" The boy did not take the blanket, instead just stared at Wu Fei in puzzlement.

"Covering you," Wu Fei explained. What did it look like?

"Did _he_ send you?"

The western Lord did not question who 'he' was. "No."

"He didn't send you?" The bound servant asked. "Like, you mean, this is not a test or something?"

"A test?" Wu Fei glanced at the naked boy's face in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You know, with him all going on like me not being allowed to defend myself, blah, blah, blah. And now you coming up here offering me something to cover myself."

What was he talking about? The boy was indecent, Wu Fei offered him something to hide his privates and he thought it was some sort of test? "I just came to see if you were all right." Wu Fei still held the blanket out. "Take this, it will cover you."

"I'm not supposed to be covered." The servant answered grudgingly. "It's part of the whole punishment thing and all."

"But I'm offering." Wu Fei attempted again.

"I think that would be exactly going against his point."

"What do you mean?" Figuring the boy was really not going to take the blanket, Wu Fei lowered it some, just holding it up high enough that he did not have to see the servant's private parts. He really did not need to be looking at that.

"Well, he said I know the rules," The servant answered and when the boy shifted, Wu Fei noticed some scarring on the back. Was that from another punishment? "And one of the rules now is that I'm not supposed to be covered. So even if you're offering, I'll be in worse trouble."

"But... won't you get cold?"

"Yup." The casualty with which he said that surprised the lord of Chang.

"And you're alright with that?"

"Well, no," was the sarcastic answer. "But it's gonna happen anyway. And if you try and do something about it he'll say I shouldn't have let you and he'll probably punish me with pain and still make me be cold."

"I could wrap this around you. He'll know you can't have done it yourself."

"That won't matter." The boy said matter-of-factly. "He'll probably say I should have told you no, or that I should have dropped it or something."

"So there's nothing I can do that can help you?"

"Guess not," the servant shrugged. "But it's only for a day, or so he says, so I'll live."

A whole day without any clothing? That was a humiliation Wu Fei would not want to bear. Nor would he ever have thought of making one of his servants bear it. Hell, even prisoners were clothed back home. They might be in rags, but they were covered. Even common whores wore clothes.

"Well." There was nothing left for him to do here if he couldn't even cover the boy. "I guess I'll just go then." He turned around to leave, then looked at the blanket in his hands, folded it and put it back on the table. "Good luck." He mumbled as he walked out of the room without looking back.

"See ya!" The boy called after him. It wasn't until he was back downstairs that he realised he'd completely forgotten to apologise.

* * *

The slave was still in place when Heero went up to his bedroom after dinner to finish his work. The young lord had not expected anything else, of course. He wasn't even surprised by the stubborn glare he got upon entering.

He was, however, surprised to see one of the blankets not where it had been left. He'd inquire after that later. First he had a slave to feed. He put away the papers and took the tray he was carrying over to the table, then took the plate to Duo to hand feed him. The slave's eyes studied him warily, but aside from being purposely slow about each bite he swallowed and each sip he took from his drink he was not misbehaving. The slave was used to having regular meals now. He'd feel it if he missed one. When the boy finished, Heero put the tray outside to be taken away by some servant.

Time to address the blanket issue. "Who's been in here?"

"Your guest."

Wu Fei? That was unexpected. He hadn't mentioned it during dinner. Heero would verify. "What did he want?"

"What makes you think he told me?"

Heero glared up at the boy. "You really want to test my patience tonight?" He asked darkly.

The slave sighed and directed his scowl to the floor. "He said he wanted to see if I was okay."

"Hmm." Heero sat down in his chair, looking through the papers he brought. "And why did he move the blanket?"

"He offered to cover me in one."

Heero's eyes narrowed, but stayed on his papers. "But he didn't."

"Apparently."

That held much too much sarcasm. "Duo," Heero said warningly.

"Look, I did what you fucking wanted, okay?" The slave suddenly exploded and when Heero looked up he noticed the slave was actually pulling at his bonds in frustration. "I told him you didn't want me covered, I fucking told him you'd punish me worse if he did so just lay off it, alright?"

The aggravation in the slave's voice surprised Heero and he wasn't certain at all what to think of it. The boy had spent time around others being naked. Hell, he'd been used as a whore. So why would he be so annoyed at encountering the foreign lord while he was unclothed? He was certain the Master Chang had not tried to take advantage of Duo. No, could it be? Was the slave frustrated at not having accepted the aid?

Not for the first time since he bought the Shinigami he wished he had some of Prince Quatre's gift of understanding people. What would Quatre say, Heero wondered. The prince would say that slaves were humans just like them, with emotions just like them. He would say the slave was lashing out because that was the only way he had to defend himself.

Rubbing his eyes, Heero leaned back in his chair and took the crystal from his pocket. The slave looked at him defiantly. It was clear what he was expecting. Should Heero give him pain or should he keep him guessing? He wasn't in the mood to fight tonight. He'd done enough of that for one day.

The boy nearly yelped when the chains lengthened and he had to catch his balance. He had just enough chain now to sit down, though his hands would not even reach the floor. "You are not to cover or shield yourself from me," Heero explained. "Obey and I will leave the chains as they are. Disobey and you'll spend the rest of your punishment standing up.

It took him longer than expected to work through his papers. Somehow he found himself distracted every now and then. It was nearing midnight by the time he was done. The slave had behaved though. For a large part of the evening the boy had just stood leaning against the wall, his hands well away from his groin. Heero had checked regularly to be certain. Now the slave was sitting on the floor, slumped in his bonds, apparently asleep. Sleep sounded good.

* * *

princess/rlyblue

So last chapter I explained how the plotbunny entered my life. The next question was, what would the setup look like? The medieval setting immediately drew my attention. At the time I was reading the 'wheel of time' series, which was probably a huge influence on that decision. Aside from that, I didn't want to write in modern time with all the complications of keeping slaves hidden and laws it might involve. The slave stories I read which were set in modern times hardly ever caught me as much as those set hundreds of years ago.

I actually found a couple of sites which I used for describing things such as food and clothes they wore back then and my beta readers pointed out some details I got wrong as well. I considered the use of magic and though I can really enjoy a good fantasy novel, I wanted my story to focus on the relationship between a master and a slave. If I use magic I want a chance to explain it in detail and I feared that would draw too much attention away from the story I actually wanted to tell. Still, it would come in handy when controlling a slave like the Shinigami. Therefore, magic exists, but its practice is partially outlawed in Elfor. With a medieval setting where science hardly exists and kings hold absolute power, there's no need to explain much about magic, for it would be completely believable that even someone as powerful as Heero wouldn't know too much about it if the king had it banned.

And there's my first thoughts about the setup. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Trowa is still following Leia east and the butler got Duo in trouble again. I'd especially like your comments on Duo's reaction to the punishment. It's a huge change from the beginning of the story, the way he accepts it now. Did this progress seem natural to you or am I going too fast with him? And how did you like Wu Fei's behaviour?

Also: Starting next week I'll be taking a vacation from work. Due to that, some updates of the last chapters might be delayed.


	18. 17 Reputation

WARNINGS: Rape, violence, abuse in every sense of the word. This is NOT a fluff chapter!

* * *

17: Reputation

The dream had returned again tonight. It came near every night now. Every time it was the same, the corridor, then Lord Heero being attacked followed by the arrow meant for Prince Quatre. And then there was always that woman in the garden, pouring water over his hand and telling him they should meet.

He knew he didn't know the woman and every time he tried to remember her face, he found that he couldn't. All he could recall were the brown hair and the brown and green clothing.

He knew she was right. He knew they should meet –the visions of Lord Heero and Prince Quatre were connected to her- but how was he to accomplish that if he did not know who she was or where he could find her? He'd tried to ask her last night, but she'd just smiled at him and told him again that she would find him if he found her.

She was in the North. He was certain of it. If he wanted to find her, he had to go to the North. But Leia Barton was moving less and less north and more and more east these days. Where the bandits were, there were people fleeing and looking for inns to sleep. And where people were filling the inns, there was money to be made.

They were making money, alright. Sometimes they earned as much as five whole silvers a night and that was something Leia was obviously proud of. She also applauded his improvement, both with the flute and with the other tricks she was teaching him. But Trowa was feeling less and less pleased with himself the further east they got. With so many people on the run, there were quite a number of bandits and other scum around. They'd already been threatened twice and most of their earnings had been stolen from their room a few nights ago.

Leia just shrugged it off, said they could easily get by with what she'd left in her pocket. Still, last time it was only money they stole. What if next time someone took his flute? Or what if he woke up and found that someone would go for his life instead? People fleeing could be desperate. The tales they heard of the situation in the east certainly sounded desperate. The king's men were useless, the people said. They were few and in all the wrong places. Trowa didn't want to go further east. He wanted to go north. And if Leia didn't want to come along, he would just have to go there on his own. She had said their deal would not last beyond tomorrow and here in the east people seemed to be more accepting of a female gleeman again. Hell, with all those strangers coming in, they seemed to be accepting of anyone who would help them earn the fleeing civilian's money, even if it was a woman.

"Where are you with your mind?" Trowa looked up to find Leia staring at him. "I asked you twice if you were ready to go."

"Right." Trowa looked around. He had everything packed. Not that he had much, just a spare pair of clothes, his part of their earnings, his book and his flute. He was about to tell her he was ready as well, when he decided that this couldn't continue. If he wanted to go further north, then he had to tell her sooner or later. Now seemed as good a time as any. He sighed and looked at her again. "I'm going north."

She frowned. "No, we're going east," she said. "That's where the action is." And where there's action, there's money to be earned, was her philosophy.

"Leia..." She turned to him and all of a sudden he had trouble saying the words.

But then the look on her face changed and she sighed. "I see," she said. "Well, I guess this is where we say goodbye then."

"What?" Contrary to his expectations, she didn't seem angry with him. She didn't even seem really surprised.

"I knew this day was coming," she explained. "It was just a matter of time."

"You did?"

"Yeah." She shrugged. "Actually, I'm surprised it took so long." She took a look at his surprised expression and chuckled. "Look, it's not hard to see that the life of a gleeman isn't really your thing. You've become quite good with that flute of yours and your juggling tricks and gymnastics are fair game, but as a person you're just too quiet to be an entertainer, too reserved."

If that was how she viewed him, why hadn't she never said anything about it? "Then why did you let me tag along for so long?"

"For all the reasons I told you when we met," she answered. "A man comes in handy in these regions and I enjoyed the idea of having some company for a while. It was fun riding with someone these past months."

"So, you're not angry?"

She shook her head. "No promises beyond tomorrow, remember?"

"Right."

"So you're still bent on going north?" Trowa nodded. "Well, your earnings should be more than sufficient to get you there. I wish you luck on your journey."

"Thanks." Trowa was still surprised and not quite certain how to respond to her easy-going reaction. He'd been so sure she wouldn't agree to letting him go he hadn't thought about what to say in this situation.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye then," Leia said. "I'll tell the innkeeper to ready your horse as well so you can leave as soon as you're ready." With that she headed to the door.

"Leia..." She turned around and he hesitated. "Thank you," He said earnestly. "For everything."

She smiled. "You're welcome. Be well, Trowa Barton." She started out again but then turned back to him again. "And if you ever want to find me-"

"I'll ask for the only female gleeman around," Trowa answered with a smile. It was what she told the customers at the end of every successful evening.

"Exactly." She smiled and turned away again. This time she really left and he found himself alone in the room they'd been given in return for drawing customers to the inn. This was it. He was on his own again and it would be his own decision where to go to next. And he knew exactly where that would be. To the North.

* * *

A few weeks had passed since Heero had found Duo learning how to fight and things seemed to be going well. Last night the slave had managed to remain blindfolded for over an hour without panicking and he seemed to be doing his chores without protest. Since last week the slave was even sleeping unchained. Heero was ever wary for that outburst he still hadn't gotten, for the slave seemed to grow tenser when they were together, but Helen reported no problems in the boy's behaviour.

Tonight would be another challenge, though. His father had some guests for dinner –some military people- and he expected Heero to join them for the meal and the aftermath. Considering the guests that were expected, his father had also mentioned they would want to see the Shinigami. The only lords Heero'd brought the slave around so far were Master Chang and Prince Quatre and that had been deliberate. Though the slave seemed to have developed an unexpected liking for their foreign guest, around Prince Quatre he had never been anything but hostile, even though Quatre had never even hinted at lifting a finger to him and had prevented Heero from doing so as well. The crown prince could have that effect on people, either you liked him or you hated him when you met him, but the latter was actually quite rare.

With the people joining them today –Lord Tsubarov, Lord Farkill, Lord Alex and perhaps one or two more individuals- the Shinigami would get quite some unwanted attention. Military people often liked to see others humiliated and with a lack of war prisoners during peace times they tended to turn their attention to slaves. They would probably bring their own servants tonight and if they got bored, no doubt they would make them play.

Of course, the Shinigami would have to conform to these settings sooner or later. This gathering was held in his father's part of the estate, which meant it was familiar ground for Heero. It made things easier and Heero realised he could have been worse off. Still, he would have to give the slave proper warning in advance.

That was exactly what he was about to do. He had a tray of food with him, which was unusual as the slave now usually served him dinner and ate afterwards, but Heero didn't trust him enough to serve. It would be enough of a challenge for him to sit at Heero's feet and ignore the guests while they discussed him but at least in that setting Heero was confident he had enough control over the slave.

Duo wasn't in his bedroom. The slave often wandered off to the sitting room now that he was no longer constantly chained to the wall, parking himself on the couch which was much more comfortable than the floor or the wooden chair. He was lounging there today as well, flipping through a book that had pictures for him to study. Heero again reminded himself that he intended for the slave to learn how to read. The timing was just not right yet.

Though he didn't look up from his book, he did immediately lift his feet when Heero entered, knowing his master didn't like it when he had them on the couch. A small motion, but enough to show he was aware of him.

"Duo." The name almost came naturally now. Heero placed the tray on the table and the slave looked at it with surprise, then turned to look at Heero.

"What's this? No serving tonight?"

"Not tonight." Heero answered. "Lay out formal wear for me. Then you may eat."

The boy made a sound of protest, but got up from the couch anyway and disappeared into the bedroom. It didn't take the boy long to lay something out and when he returned he grabbed his plate and made to sit on the couch. After a warning glance from Heero, however, he sat down on the floor instead. Heero rested his hand in Duo's hair and relaxed for a moment.

It had become a habit for them to spend time like this, Heero on the couch, Duo on the floor, the former playing with the latter's hair. There was even a pillow which had taken permanent residence on the floor for Duo to sit on. Heero quite enjoyed it this way, though he could only guess how the slave really felt about it.

"So, you going out tonight?" Heero didn't have to wait long for the slave to ask. He never had to wait long.

"No, my father has visitors."

"Your father?" The Shinigami had only met the elder Lord Yuy on a few occasions. Heero rarely joined his father for dinner now that Wu Fei was here to enjoy the exotic foods his father brought in and the other man almost never visited Heero in his wing.

"Yes. I am expected as well."

"So, who's visiting?" The boy said, not bothering to swallow before he spoke.

"Military officials," Heero answered.

"Okay." The slave was quiet for a moment, eating his meal

"I expect you to join me after dinner."

The boy tensed, pausing his fork in mid-air for a moment. "Really?" He said tentatively before resuming his movement.

"They're exactly the kind of men you won't like," Heero continued as if uninterrupted. "No doubt they are aware of your reputation and that I have you. They'll expect to see you."

The Shinigami made a low growling noise, but Heero reprimanded him by pulling on a strand of hair. "So you want to parade me in front of them?" The slave asked, sounding more than a little annoyed. "Want to show me off? Want me to-"

"Enough." Heero said calmly, gripping the braid in warning.

The boy silenced, but he did not let up. Heero relaxed his grip, but did not let go entirely.

"You will put on clean clothes. I will have someone fetch you when I want you. You'll sit by me and you will behave properly. You know what that means." Heero looked down at his slave, who was intensely busy staring at his plate, glaring probably, though Heero couldn't see through the obscuring bangs. "They will no doubt watch you. They'll leer at you. They'll discuss you. They'll try to provoke you. None of that matters. Your job is to remember who you belong to and ignore them. My orders are the only ones you need to worry about. Do you understand?"

"You gonna let them fuck me?"

The slave could be obsessed with sex sometimes. "If so I will tell you." He wasn't going to give Duo to those guests, of course. He had vowed not to let anyone touch the boy until he had bedded him and he doubted he'd let many have a go after that, but the slave did not need to know.

"Ain't no way I'm gonna let- Ow!"

Heero pulled the braid hard, pulling the slave's head backwards and turning it to make him look at him. "You will behave," he nearly growled. "You will not disobey or otherwise embarrass me or you will-"

"Lemme guess," the slave interrupted in a pained voice. "Lots of pain and regret."

"Indeed," Heero answered. "While they are watching." The boy's eyes narrowed, but Heero tugged the braid in warning. "Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Master," the boy said in a strained voice.

"Good." Heero released the hair and stood up. "Now help me dress."

* * *

The younger Lord Yuy was more than a little annoyed at the presence of Lord Muller. In his opinion the minor lord had no place at this table, but apparently Sir Alex had taken a liking to the cunning Muller and had taken him on as some sort of apprentice. It was the latest step in Muller's grand scheme to become a powerful player and Heero was not happy about that. The man was cunning yes, and careful, but also arrogant and self serving. The country would not benefit from a man like that. He would have to speak to the crown prince about this latest development.

Another reason he was not pleased with seeing Muller here was because of Duo. Muller had been the first lord to come up to him and inquire about the Shinigami and he had made it plain he was interested in bedding the slave. Heero knew the Shinigami would be expected here tonight, but a man like Muller would only make it harder to keep the slave under control. He could not afford an escalation tonight. Not with how far he'd come and definitely not with his father there to watch.

During dinner some business was discussed. Lord Tsubarov, in charge of military distribution wanted the elder Lord Yuy to increase the cities' output of weapons, claiming that what they had was not enough. Lord Farkill said they just needed new weapon designs, going on about what he'd seen in other countries. Lord Farkill worked as an eye for the military, meaning he regulated spies.

On the other side were Sir Alex and Lord Muller, conversing with Lord Chang about how the Elfor military worked opposed to a Clan's military. Neither side was telling the full truth, of course, while both sides tried to uncover what the other wouldn't tell. Heero, seated next to Wu Fei, joined in every now and then to explain things more clearly to the western lord. For the most part, though, he was studying the gathered men. He was not a great conversationalist and was content to let others carry on. After dinner they relocated to one of his father's more private rooms. There business was fully replaced by pleasure, talking tactics, rumours and wine.

Farkill, Muller and Alex had brought their own sets of servants, each of them having a personal slave by their side. Heero was surprised to see his father had actually brought out Taurus for the occasion. The slave was as the name suggested, a broad shouldered male with strong arms and dressed in silks that were made to look like armour. The meek look did not suit the man.

The guests were all staying in the capital. The estate had enough room to house guests, but one of the few things the Yuy father and son had in common was that they liked their privacy. That meant they rarely had guests staying over –Lord Chang excluded, of course.

And then the subject changed.

"So, Lord Heero, when are you planning on showing us that reputable addition to your household?"

Tsubarov was the first to ask tonight, but Farkill quickly caught on. "Yes, you're said to have acquired him months ago, yet I haven't heard from anyone that they have seen him yet. One would wonder if he really still exists at all."

"I have him," Heero assured them, calmly sipping his wine.

"Then why has no-one seen him yet?" Tsubarov asked. "If I had the famous Shinigami in my grasp I would be putting him up like a prize every occasion I got."

"Ah, but Lord Yuy here means to avoid the fate the Shinigami's other owners have met," Muller joined in. "He means to tame the beast."

So he remembered the conversation they'd had at Princess Katherine's party.

"Oh? How is that coming along?" Lord Farkill asked, petting the male he had kneeling at his feet.

"He was a wild beast," Heero answered tersely. "But all beasts can be tamed using the right methods."

"Oh, that I must see," Lord Tsubarov said. "From what I hear the price that was paid for him was already quite high. And a tame Shinigami would be worth an enormous amount of money."

"But how tame is he yet?" Farkill asked. "Lord Yuy, you must show us what you've done with him."

"You ask to see him?" Heero Yuy _must_ nothing. But he had expected this. So he motioned for one of his father's servants. "Have Geoffrey bring the Shinigami." The servant bowed and left the room without a word.

"Oh, interesting," Farkill said excitedly. "I must say I had my own challenges training my Leo." The Lord petted the handsome blond man he had kneeling at his feet. Leo, huh? So that was why the boy was dressed like that. The fur lining his shirt was probably supposed to resemble a mass of manes. "He's a tame housecat now compared to what he was when I got him, though on occasion I'll let him use his lion's roar. He likes that." Heero doubted the slave liked anything. The eyes were as dead as a corpse's. It was exactly what he wanted to avoid with his Shinigami.

"Oh come now, Lord Farkill," Lord Tsubarov said, "a few bites and scratches don't make a beast."

"A few bites and scratches?" Farkill answered. "I assure you, I had needed to decorate near his entire body before this one would roll over for me." That much showed. The slave was dressed in tight-fitted clothing, leaving very little to the imagination. His arms and legs were full of scars and burn marks and even his face had felt the end of a whip.

"There are other ways to train your servants," Alex interjected. "I find you often achieve more with honey than with vinegar."

"That's because your slaves are never wild beasts," Muller said, stroking the scarcely clad girl he had brought tonight. The brown haired female was young and looked scared, tensed at every touch of her master. She had an impressive bosom and her clothing consisted mainly of ropes wrapped tightly around her body with small pieces of cloth which almost fit to cover her private parts. Muller had her hold his drink and would kick her to have her hand it, even though he could reach it easily if he bothered to stretch his am.

"You're one to speak," replied Alex. "Yours was meek as a bunny when you got her."

"Ah, but I do enjoy the occasional beast," Muller smirked. "But only for the bed. I have no patience to train them for company."

Heero noted that the only personal slave in the room that had some spirit left was the one seated with Sir Alex. Though she behaved as was expected, she often glanced around the company curiously and seemed to be following the conversation. She was attentive to her master, though and kept her eyes low.

And then Heero's personal butler came in, holding the door open for the Shinigami to enter. All eyes were immediately on him, all except for Lord Wu Fei's who was following the ordeal with an unsure expression.

"That him?" Farkill was the first to speak. "Oh, he does look... interesting."

Duo let his eyes roam over the group conspicuously before they found Heero and he started towards him. He had a dangerous air around him as he walked and he seemed to deliberately sway in his steps. The young lord noticed his hand had moved to the crystal in his pocket the moment the boy entered, but he looked back at his possession calmly, intent to hide his tension.

Lord Tsubarov leaned forward. "It is remarkable how much some soap and fresh clothing can achieve," he said, studying the boy a little more. "He looks entirely different from what I remember. Though the eyes and the movements are unmistakable. This is the true Shinigami."

"And you can know, of course," Farkill said, "considering you've had the opportunity to use him."

"Indeed. An experience I would not mind repeating," the elder man leered, leaning back in his chair.

"Was he truly that good?"

Heero said nothing, but watched his slave with apprehension. He had known there was a chance one of these men had bedded the slave before, but now that he knew for certain he felt a wave of unmistakable jealousy. He pushed the feeling away and focussed on the situation at hand. Duo shot daggers at Lord Tsubarov and his fists clenched, but he did not stray from his path leading to Heero.

The men chuckled at Trubarov's latest comment and Muller turned to Heero. "Tell me, My Lord, has the boy come to your bed yet?" The Shinigami turned his glare at the man as he graciously sank to his knees at his master's feet. Heero could not deny he felt some pride at the way the slave was holding himself.

"What I do with my possessions in my own personal time is not anybody's business." He hoped his reputation as a private person was enough to keep them guessing at his refusal to answer. He would prefer these people not know he actually hadn't bedded the slave yet.

Lord Farkill laughed at the comment. "A statement worthy of a Yuy." Heero noticed his father glance significantly at Lord Farkill. "If that's what he says you won't get a straight answer out of him no matter how hard you try." Lord Farkill and Heero's father went way back. They had served their four years in the army together. They were as close as Heero was with Quatre.

The elder Lord Yuy had been quiet since the beginning of this conversation, like Heero, preferring to observe. He had disagreed with his son's decision to buy the slave, but it was a subject father and son avoided discussing. Now he just settled on glaring at the slave disapprovingly.

"You're being awfully quiet, Lord Wu Fei of Chang," Alex said. "Which would you prefer, the docile bunny, the tamed lion or the beast?"

Their attention momentarily diverted, Heero put a hand on his Shinigami's head and leaned forward towards the slave who was still glaring daggers at Tsubarov. Did he remember the man from when they had sex? "Remember," Heero whispered only for the slave to hear, "you belong to me now."

The slave shifted and lowered his gaze somewhat, hiding those beautifully spirited eyes behind his bangs. Heero leaned back, leaving his one hand on top of the slave's head, his other in his pocket and returned his focus to the conversation at hand, where the foreign lord was still struggling to answer questions he knew very little about.

The subject of slavery remained a mystery to their foreign guest and he had absolutely no interest in having sex with any of Heero's household. Apparently in the West even visiting whores was something one in his position could not afford. On the other hand, from what Heero understood they were capable of marrying more than one woman, or at least having some mistresses around. It wasn't entirely clear to Heero how marriage and mistresses worked in the West as Wu Fei of Chang would rarely speak of it. A private matter. Heero could appreciate that.

The conversation gradually moved away from slaves and for an hour or so Master Wu Fei, Tsubarov and Alex competed in telling war stories. It wasn't until several stories were told and they couldn't settle on a winner that they decided they needed a different form of entertainment.

It started out innocent enough, with Heero's father bringing in a girl to play the piano and Muller's slave started dancing, but wine and cider were flowing richly and the dancing became more erotic, especially when Muller's woman was replaced by Alex's. Soon enough every other sentence was a sexual remark. Even Wu Fei managed to join in with some amusing anecdotes. Apparently men did talk about sex way in the West, just not when they were sober.

Duo was growing increasingly uncomfortable and Heero returned a hand to the crystal, his other firmly atop his slave's head as a reminder to behave. And then Lord Farkill suggested they play the rape game and Tsubarov and Muller immediately cheered.

Under his hand, Heero felt the Shinigami completely tense up. Yes, the boy knew what the game entailed and for the slaves involved it was definitely not pretty. With a stroke of the crystal Heero locked Duo's hands behind his back. The slave had his hands already properly behind his back, but he'd still felt the pull on his wrists for he shifted and turned his head ever so slightly towards his master. Strangely enough, he also seemed to relax somewhat, though that could be in anticipation of a fight. Heero just took a large strand of Duo's hair and pretended to just be playing with it.

"Ah, but who to use." Tsubarov said, looking around the room. He had brought no servant of his own and seemed to want to pick the contestants.

"I'll volunteer Leo." Farkill said, giving his slave a shove.

Tsubarov chuckled. "We should test your fierce lion against the Shinigami."

"Ah but then who should we make the aggressor?" Farkill wondered.

Heero could see his slave was fully alert now and already preparing himself to fight, though Heero doubted the boy was planning to fight his appointed opponent. Not that it mattered, though. Heero had no intention of letting his slave rape or get raped. "He will not join the game," the young lord said darkly.

"Aww come on," Farkill said. "I would love to see that wild beast test against my lion."

"He's mine," Heero growled, not caring if he sounded possessive. "And he's not playing."

Duo's tension did not let up. Heero hadn't expected it to, but the lords, recognising the finality in Heero's statement, moved on and finally settled on the lion versus Muller's slave.

The game was simple and brutal. First they settled on a perimeter which the contestants were not allowed to leave. Then Lord Farkill grabbed his slave by the neck. "Fuck her." He said, nodding to Lord Muller's girl.

Lord Muller made his slave look up at him. "Do not let him fuck you." He ordered. And then the game was on.

The girl was no match for Leo. Everybody knew that from the start, but the loser had not followed its master's order and would be punished. It ensured they would fight till the end, her screams filling the room while she struggled, even when he was already inside her. The game was not Heero's first choice of entertainment. There was a time when he'd thought it was a perfect reflection of how much control an owner had over a losing slave. The longer the slave kept fighting, the better the owner had it trained.

He wasn't so sure about that anymore. Thinking of Duo in that game, winning or losing, made him realise that the longer the losing slave fought, the more terrified it was of its master's repercussions. That wasn't control, it was fear.

The girl was reprimanded and promised retribution for her failure. The game was played one more time, this one with Leo and Taurus, since Alex also refused to submit his slave for the game. Leo wasn't weak, but having already wrestled down someone he was no match for the bull the elder Lord Yuy kept by his side. Leo, too, fought the lost battle for a while, but when he started to bleed, he just submitted to the inevitable. It wasn't Farkill's lack of control that made Leo give up, it was his lack of interest in the punishment his master was going to administer for losing.

Heero noticed Duo was watching the game and it surprised him. He'd figured the Shinigami would turn his head aside as most slaves did. Yet his head was clearly turned towards the copulating pair. Lord Yuy wished he could see his slave's expression right then, but the Shinigami sat with his back towards his master the way he was kneeling.

There was another who wasn't watching the game. Lord Wu Fei of Chang gripped his drink so tightly his knuckles turned white. Heero was surprised the glass even held. Looked like this was not his type of game either.

When the match was over, the slaves returned to their respective masters and another brought in to clean the floors, Heero decided to speak up. "Lord Wu Fei, you look tired," he said. "Do you wish to retire?"

The Western lord looked at him and, calmly as he could muster, answered "I think that would be wise."

Heero nodded and with the hand holding the crystal, he unlocked Duo's wrists. "My Shinigami will escort you to your chambers." Both Lord Chang and Duo appeared surprised by this, but Heero ignored that, turning to his slave while unlocking the wrists. "See to it that he is satisfied, then return to me."

Heero sat back with a smirk as he watched his slave rise.

* * *

He had the restraint to wait until they'd left the elder Lord Yuy's wing, but as soon as they reached the hallway separating them, Wu Fei let out a frustrated cry. "The audacity!" He roared. "The nerve, the impudence, such insolent display! Those-Those barbarians and their disgusting, sickening, revolting games!" Words could not describe how he felt right now. "And to do it for all to see. Such insult!"

The heir to the Seat of Chang rammed his fist against a wall, not knowing what else to do with his frustration. Then he noticed the Shinigami boy leaning against the railing of the stairs, arms crossed, watching him. He looked so casual.

"How can you stay calm like that?" Wu Fei demanded, turning to him. "It's your people getting raped for fun!"

"That ain't my people." The boy –Duo was his given name, Wu Fei had learned- sounded dark, but somehow composed.

"Aren't they your class?" The lord of Chang asked heatedly. "Your kind?"

"You mean slaves? Yeah. Don't make 'em mine. Makes 'em theirs."

"You were watching, though," Wu Fei accused. "I saw you watch."

"So?" The boy shrugged.

"You enjoyed it?"

"You kiddin'?" Duo replied. "You think anyone who's ever played the game would enjoy watching?"

"You've played?" Wu Fei did not know that. By the way Lord Yuy refused to let him join, he'd not expected it. Not that he'd really given it any thought. "But your master wouldn't let you."

"Ain't my first master, is he?" Duo answered darkly, still leaning back against the railing, still with his arms crossed looking defensive.

Another thing Wu Fei had not considered. It explained a thing or two, though. Like how come the relationship between Duo and his master had changed so much these past three months. "But you still watched. Why?"

"To remember," was the answer, but when the boy saw it made no sense to Wu Fei he sighed, and pushed himself away from the railing. He sounded at least somewhat calmer when he spoke. "It's what they do. It's what they make us do. If I forget, it'll only hit me harder when they make me play again. So I make sure I remember."

That made more sense. It sounded similar to something Master Long hand once told him. They should study history not so they wouldn't forget, but so they would remember. So they would not be caught off guard if history repeated itself and so they could react adequately when it did.

"So it's normal," Wufei concluded. "Am I supposed to expect that every time these people have guests?"

"Perhaps." Duo shrugged. "Military people's always liking it."

"It's disgusting," Wufei said. "I don't even want to watch when they're having consensual sex, let alone a disgusting display like this. It's not proper; it's a humiliation beyond words."

"Man, your land must be really far away." The comment was muttered, but Wu Fei caught it anyway. He looked at the servant.

"So tell me something else," he said sharply. "How come you have the gall to speak to me the way you do? You're just a lowly servant. You should be bowing and begging and scurrying out of my way."

The servant huffed insolently at that. "If you got complaints about my behaviour, you should take them to Heero. I'm sure he'll 'convince' me to be more reverent towards you." The words were spoken with disgust and Wu Fei did not need to guess what the servant meant by stressing the word 'convince'. It meant pain.

Wu Fei decided that for now he wouldn't talk to Lord Yuy about it yet. He'd started this himself when he'd allowed the boy to approach him like this while he was training. It wasn't entirely his fault and somewhere it was even refreshing. Wu Fei learned more from this servant than he would have ever expected, after all. For now, he would live with the behaviour.

"I can find my own way back," he told the boy. "You should probably return before you get into trouble."

"You kidding?" The slave said. "The longer I stay out here, the better."

But Lord Yuy had ordered him to return when he was done. "What do you mean?"

"Weren't you listening?" Duo said, wandering back and forth. "He said I should make sure you're 'satisfied'."

Wu Fei missed the meaning of the word. "I am satisfied."

But Duo bluntly answered "He implied we'd be having sex."

Wu Fei blinked startled. "What? No we're not- I'm not..."

"He didn't say we should." The servant held up his hands, laughing now. "He just wanted them to think we did."

He wanted them to think that? "But... Why?"

"To make 'em jealous?" Duo stopped laughing and shrugged. "Probably serves him some purpose or another. Maybe he just wanted to keep up some reputation, you know, for not allowing me to play."

That had been a tactical move? And here Master Chang had been thinking Lord Yuy had sent Duo out as some sort of kindness. The servant had seemed nearly as livid at what he'd witnessed as Wu Fei had been. "Well, we're not going to. So you can return now. I dismiss you."

"Even so, I'm not returning just yet," Duo replied cheekily. "He's given me a free pass to stay away from those bastards for a while and I'll be damned if I ain't gonna take it."

Wu Fei could see his point, but still. "Won't you get in trouble?"

"Only if you tell on me," Duo answered "And before you're thinking of saving your reputation by telling on me, it would probably do you worse. As you must have noticed I got a… sort of reputation. They think you're fucking me and with Heero being all possessive and all too, you'll be way up there without even trying. Might benefit ya."

"You think so?" Wu Fei wasn't sure if that was true, but this servant seemed to understand the games around here a lot better than he did himself. He wondered if Lord Yuy knew. "How?"

"Well, that Tsubarov's made quite his way in the military. Apparently my _master_ is pretty far up himself, if he can say no to that dickhead," Duo simply explained. "He treats you as an equal then you gotta be that high up too, right?"

"Right." It made some sense the way the boy explained it. "Well, I'm retiring now anyway. You don't have to escort me any further."

"'Kay." Wu Fei watched the servant move off in another direction, then started his own way up the stairs towards his chambers. It had been a busy day, today. He would meditate on what he had witnessed and learned. That always cleared his mind and helped him put all the pieces together, for right now his head was scrambled. He would to speak to Lord Yuy about not wanting to witness such games again. Perhaps he could even ask for Duo's insight tomorrow on questions he did not doubt would rise up during his meditation.

Little did he know then that speaking to the servant the next day would not be possible, for by the time morning came, Duo was gone.

* * *

rlyblue/princess

So what about the characterisation? I loved the idea of Duo being a completely wild, traumatised animal which needed to be tamed, so that part I settled on quickly. But how do you train someone whose behaviour is wild, erratic, and dangerous? The key word to that is trust. I have always believed that for any master/slave relationship to work there would need to be trust between them. Someone who's been beaten and abused for so long, by so many people expects to be beaten and abused. By far the most people will break and obey. They'll eventually take it lying down as is shown in this very chapter. But Duo is a strong character and one of those very few who will keep fighting the abusers to the point where it nearly kills him. If Heero wants him to stop fighting, after all this time, he'll have to work on building trust.  
Heero starts building that trust from the very beginning of the story, where he tells Duo that he won't let him starve, food being a first priority to any living being, but if he wants to enjoy his food he'll have to do a chore. And as promised, Heero brings him the grey goo which tastes horrible but keeps him alive. And he keeps it up until the day Duo decides that one chore might be a small price to pay for food that looks and smells so much better than what he usually gets. And again Heero keeps his promise and gives him the enjoyable food. In those actions he lays a foundation on which they can start building a form of a relationship. I explain this quite detailed throughout the story and I believe Heero's disciplined canon character was perfect for this role.

Oh my, a cliffhanger. And guess what? Next week I'll be on holidays and unable to upload the next chapter! Sorry guys! I didn't plan it this way when I started posting, but oh well.


	19. 18: Father Maxwell

Sorry for the delay, I was on vacation last week. And I left you with a cliffhanger too. I feel kind of bad about that, it wasn't planned. But anyway, without further ado, here's the continuation with chapter 18. Enjoy!

Warnings: Language, religion, warped way of thinking.

* * *

**18: Father Maxwell**

The church was Father Maxwell's life. When he wasn't out in the streets helping people, he could be found in the church. He worked there; he ate there; he even lived there, in a little, humble room in the back, where he had a bed and a simple writing table. He'd led the campaign to raise money for building the church and every Sunday he led the small Christian community in Mass.

So when he entered the church that morning, Father Maxwell immediately noticed something was off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it right away, but the feeling was there. The Father decided to finish his morning ritual and knelt down in front of the cross in the middle of the altar for a quick morning prayer, then stood up and looked around. Everything seemed the same as he had left it last night.

Father Maxwell especially loved how the morning sun shone through the leaded window, illuminating the aisle past the row of benches on a cloudless day. Today was cloudless apparently, for the sunlight lit the path brilliantly; the different colours of the window sparkling brightly. It was as if God was telling him to take a walk down the aisle himself. And though God worked in mysterious ways, listening to Him had yet to lead the Father down the wrong path.

It was the fifth row of benches that he found the oddity he'd been looking for. A young woman dressed in clothes black as the night was curled up on the wooden bench, fast asleep. This must be what had set him off upon entering this area. The woman shivered and curled up tighter. The movement caused one end of her untidy braid to slip off the bench and fall to the floor. The soft jerk on the head startled her and she woke up, opening her eyes.

When she noticed him, the woman jerked back, lashing out defensively, but only hitting air. As she hurried to scramble backwards though, she lost her grip and slid off the bench and fell halfway to the floor before she caught herself.

"Woah, easy!" Father Maxwell held out a hand, trying to appear helpful but the woman grimaced at it suspiciously and pushed herself up. "I'm not going to hurt you," the Father said calmly, taking back his hand. "Are you alright? Are you injured?"

"I'm fine." The low sound of the voice surprised Father Maxwell and he took another good look at the person now making his way out of the bench row. This wasn't a woman at all. It was a young man, just one with very long hair it appeared.

The young man seemed to be studying him suspiciously, as if unsure what to make of him. Often, the best way to avoid hostility was to get to know one another better. "I'm Father Maxwell," the priest said pleasantly to the youth now on the other end of the bench row. "This church is my home. Will you do me the honour of giving me your name?"

"I don't think so," the youth said, sounding guarded. "Look, I'm sorry if I disturbed you or anything. I'll be on my way now."

The youth turned to go, but Father Maxwell had gotten curious. "Perhaps I can help you with your troubles?" He offered quickly.

The young man turned to him warily. "What makes you think I got troubles?"

"Well, you were asleep on a hard bench in my cold church, but I'm quite certain I didn't see you in Mass yesterday." The Father smiled. "If you had no troubles, I expect you'd have spent the night somewhere more comfortable."

That made the young man think a moment. "Helen said you were alright."

"Helen?" Father Maxwell asked. Helen was not an uncommon name, but one person immediately sprang to mind. "You don't happen to mean my sister, Helen Maxwell?"

"Dunno if that's her last name, but she said she had a brother who lived in a church in the capital." The boy said. "That you, then?"

"I suppose I must be." So, his sister had sent him? Well, obviously not 'sent' him directly, or the conversation would have gone differently, but she had a way of getting stray people to somehow show up on his doorstep, or in this case, inside his church. "So, young man without a name, will you tell me how you know my sister?"

The visitor shrugged. He didn't seem very willing to talk at the moment, but the Father thought he might get there yet.

"Well, in that case, I welcome you in this house of God. Will you share a meal with me?"

"Food?" The stranger sounded surprised at the offer and a little suspicious.

"Yes," Father Maxwell answered, "I'm afraid I don't have very much, but what I have, I have to share."

That made the young man blink. "If you ain't got much, then why'd you share?"

He was very distrusting. Father Maxwell figured the youth had his reasons, but he also believed in the will of the Divine. God had sent this young man to him and that meant he had a job to do. "Well, you appear weary. You look like you could use a meal and I eat alone so often. I would enjoy the company." The youth didn't seem entirely convinced yet. "You could tell me how my sister is doing, if you please. I haven't seen her in a while."

The youth hesitated, but then said "Alright, I'll eat with you. But I'm leaving as soon as we're done."

Father Maxwell smiled, relieved. "Thank you," he said. "I will not keep you any longer than you want to stay. This way, please." He led the youth to a room where he usually met with the deacons. He figured the young man would be more comfortable here with more space to move around than in his smaller bedroom where he usually enjoyed his morning meal. "Please, have a seat while I gather the plates and bread."

Father Maxwell used the time he needed to set the table for studying his company. The young man appeared to be healthy. At the very least he wasn't sick or starved and his clothing looked slept in but not worn. He appeared anxious though. Whatever his troubles, either they weren't great or they had just started. He also noticed now that the guest wore something on his wrists. He hadn't noticed before as it bore the same black colour as his shirt, but the light in this room showed that the cuffs were made of some metal. Upon closer inspection, the Father also noticed a metal band around the boy's throat. A slave then? A runaway? If he knew Helen then perhaps he belonged to her employer, Lord Yuy, or perhaps the elder Yuy. Well, it did not matter. In the house of God all men were equal and would be treated so.

"There we go," the priest said putting two plates down and taking his seat at one of them. "Ah, I hope you don't mind if I say a prayer first?" The young man didn't seem to care, so Father Maxwell folded his hands together and bowed his head. "Heavenly Father, I thank you for receiving this morning's meal and hope today may bring me another step closer to your true enlightenment. I would also like to thank you for the guest you so kindly showed to your house last night and hope you will give me the insight I need to guide him further along the path you chose for him. Amen."

Looking up, he found himself being stared at blankly. "That don't sound like any prayer Helen ever said."

Father Maxwell chuckled at that. "Well, everybody says their own prayers." He picked up a piece of barley bread and handed it to his guest. "I'm afraid I have only cheese or ham, but I do have some cumin for seasoning if you like."

"Ham's fine," the young man said as he began to prepare his breakfast. "So, you really believe your 'Heavenly Father' is listening?"

"I know he's listening," the priest answered.

"Really? Does he ever answer you?"

"Sometimes." Obviously the young man had some basic understanding of who God was, or he wouldn't be asking those questions. Possibly Helen's influence, Father Maxwell guessed. The Christian community was small. Christianity had several other religions to compete with and monotheism was not very popular in this country. Though with magic outlawed and the dragons chased off, this true faith was gaining followers.

"What does he say?"

Father paused at that, thinking of how to answer that in a way a non-believer –for he was quite certain his guest was that- would understand. "It's not so much that He answers with words," he started, "it's more of a feeling He gives me that pulls me towards something or a certain thought He gives me."

"Right." The young man sounded sceptical at best. Well, as much as the Father would like to convert people, the feeling he was getting now was that he shouldn't try to push this young man to do anything, or the boy would flee first chance he'd get.

So he decided instead to stay on more neutral ground for now. "So, how is my sister doing? She's missed Mass three weeks in a row."

"She's sorry about that," the boy said with a shrug. "She hurt her foot a few weeks past, so she I guess can't walk all the way to the city."

"I heard something about that." She had written to him when she missed her first week. It had been a foolish accident, she'd said, missing a step on the stairs and catching herself badly. "Is she getting better?"

"Doc says she would if she weren't so stubborn and just stayed off her foot for a while."

The Father laughed at that. It sounded like his sister. Their father had to work hard to support them when they were little and he'd always taught them that slacking was a sin. It was a lesson they had both taken to heart. "And Lord Yuy isn't encouraging her to heed the doctor's word?"

"Feh, like that bastard would ever think of anyone but himself."

He called Lord Yuy a bastard? "She speaks quite fondly of Lord Yuy." Perhaps he was on to something here. If he felt anger towards this man, then perhaps therein lay his reason for sleeping in the church. That runaway slave theory might be right.

"She speaks fondly of everyone. Except maybe some guy named Trevor."

"Really?" Trevor. He'd heard that name before. If his memory served him right, that was a servant in her lord's father's household. "I've always found her to be quite a fair judge of character."

"Hmm."

While they talked, Father Maxwell pondered on what to do next. His guest hardly let anything of importance loose during the rest of the meal and the Father didn't dare press too much. But when breakfast ended, like the Father expected, the boy stood up to go. "Won't you stay a little longer?"

The boy looked surprised at that. "Why'd you want me to stay?"

A lie would not help here and besides, this young man deserved to know his true intentions. "I believe God sent you to my doorstep because He thought I could help."

"Help with what?" The guest asked.

Father Maxwell shrugged. "You tell me."

"What, he didn't tell you?" The you man asked sarcastically.

Father Maxwell ignored the jest and replied calmly. "Like I said, he doesn't speak in words."

"And why would you even wanna help in the first place?"

"Because He wants me to." Simple as that.

But not for this one. "No, I mean, what's in it for you?"

The priest did not have to think long to answer that. "Well, perhaps He wants me to learn something and by helping you I may learn it."

"And what would he want you to learn?"

"I don't know," the priest answered truthfully, "but I do know that God works in mysterious ways and His way is never wrong."

"How'd you know?"

"That is called faith."

The braided young man stared at him for a long time, as if trying to detect a lie. Finally he huffed. "There's nothing you can do to help me."

That was a better answer than the Father had expected. "I could listen," he offered

But the guest shook his head. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?" The priest asked. "It might help put things in perspective."

"That's not it. It's just that I can't talk to people about it, or they'll make me go back."

"The house of God is a sacred place. Violence is banned here. I would not make you go anywhere."

"No offence mister, but I don't trust you."

"Well, will you trust in God?"

The young man snorted. "What kind of question is that? You just said He doesn't even talk."

"That doesn't mean you can't talk to Him." The boy seemed confused by that, so Father nodded at two wooden booths that stood off to the side. "See that there? It's a confessional. From there you can talk directly to God."

"Really?"

"Would that be acceptable?"

The boy thought it over hesitantly. "You sure He'll listen?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, I guess it can't hurt, right?"

Pleased with that, the Father smiled. "Go ahead then. Just get in the one on the right and wait a little for the hatch to open, then speak."

"Right. Okay. Why not?" The young man walked towards the confession booth and opened the door to the right booth. He inspected it thoroughly before he entered and closed the door behind him. With a smile, Father Maxwell followed and entered the booth on the left. He sat down, said a quick prayer for the Heavenly Father and opened the latch.

The wooden decoration he had chosen for the small area through which one occupant of the booth could see the other was more elaborate than it had been in the church where he conducted his studies. He'd chosen this on purpose, preferring not to have a too clear view of the occupant on the other side. It made for easier interpretation without prejudice. He was just interpreting God's word, nothing more.

The young man's face appeared, looking through the window into his booth and, not completely unexpected, he cried out. "You?! The hell are you doing there?"

"It's my job."

"You tricked me!" His guest spat angrily. "You told me to go in here to talk to your God, but you just tricked me!"

"I did not intend to trick you." Father Maxwell said quickly. "Please, calm down a moment."

"I'm getting outta here." The boy moved to get out.

"Do you know the term 'confidential'?" The Father said quickly. "It means I'm not allowed to speak of anything I hear in here."

The young man hesitated and looked back at him. "You trying to trick me some more?"

"It's not a trick. It's God's law. Whatever you say while we're in here is strictly between you and me. Unless you tell me it's okay, so as God be my witness, I can't speak of it to anyone else."

"Then what was all that crap about speaking to God in here?"

"Well, that's what you essentially do," the Father explained. "I'm just here as an interpreter, to help you talk to God and help you interpret his answer."

"So... you're like the messenger?" His guest said tentatively.

"You could call it that, yes."

"And it's just between us?"

"You, me and God."

"Well... I guess then..." The young man sat down and shifted a little. "So, now I talk?"

"That is the idea, yes."

"Okay. Um, what am I supposed to say?"

"Anything you want to say." The Father answered and when the braided youth did not reply, he proposed. "You could start by telling me your name."

"I got none." The young man answered. "Not really."

"Well, what do people call you then."

"They call me whatever they want. 'Shinigami' is often used. Though lately 'Duo' came up a couple of times too."

Two names to call him by. The priest had heard of the term 'Shinigami' before, but he thought that was a title for dragon slayers. This young man did not seem like the army type. He definitely didn't look like a knight. "Which of the two do you prefer?"

"Either's fine."

"Alright. Duo it is then."

"Okay."

"So, would you like to tell me how come you're called Shinigami?" It was as good a start as any, the Father guessed. "Did you slay a dragon?"

"You heard that tale as well, huh? No, I didn't kill no dragon. I was given that name because they think I killed people. But I don't deserve it. Not anymore."

A curious thing to say. "How so?"

"Because I couldn't kill him."

The ease with which this boy spoke of killing, it made the priest shudder a moment. "Who?"

"Heero Yuy. My master."

It was a good thing the young man in the other booth couldn't see his face very clearly, for he was quite taken aback by that. He made a quick mental prayer for guidance before he asked "Why did you want to kill him?"

"For everything!"

"Did he hurt you?"

"Hurt me? Yeah he hurt me. One touch of that damned crystal of his and he could make me hurt so much it felt as if my insides were on fire! One touch and all my muscles would cramp up so badly I'd just fall to the floor and wasn't fucking able to move anymore! One touch and my hands would be forced together or chains would force me with my back to a wall and he would do whatever the fuck he wanted to me!"

Father Maxwell winced at the swearing, but now was not the time to point out to this young man that one should not swear in the house of God. The things he was saying didn't surprise him all that much. The Father was no stranger to pain. Though he had not experienced more than a beating once or twice while he was still a child, he'd seen enough people suffer to know what could happen. And the wealthy did not always treat their slaves with kindness. Still, this was not how his sister described Lord Yuy at all.

"He humiliated me," the boy continued, with every word his voice getting more heated. "He made me obey. He made me work for him, made me kneel, made me sit at his feet. He even fucking made me beg for punishment! And all that because he was too fucking rich and bored and he wanted a fucking challenge!"

With a roar of anger the young man hit the side of the booth with a fist. He hit it so hard that the whole construction shook. Then silence followed. Father Maxwell figured the boy was trying to calm himself down and he decided to let him have a moment before he said "It sounds like you have plenty of reasons to hate him."

"Yeah well, apparently not enough," the boy said aggravated. "I had him right where I wanted, asleep, in his bed. I had the sharpest knife his kitchen had to offer. I had no witnesses. I even had the medicine, enough to knock me out so nobody would know I'd had the chance to do it. I had it all and I stood over him with the knife and all I had to do was just plunge it into his heart or slit his throat, or... But I couldn't. My body wouldn't fucking move!"

While the priest only felt relief at that confession, this young man's voice held nothing but disappointment and frustration. "Why couldn't you do it?"

"I don't know."

Father Maxwell waited for the young man to continue, but when it seemed obvious he wouldn't, he said, "Is that a truly honest answer?"

"Yes." It came out sounding certain, but was followed by a less certain "No."

"Do you think if you try you could put it into words?"

For a long time the young man named Duo did not speak, but the Father decided to let him have the time. He wasn't leaving the booth yet. And then came the whisper.

"He's different."

The Father wondered at that. "Different?"

"Yeah. He's not... Not like others."

He must mean other masters. "In what way?"

"He let me recover." The occupant of the other booth started quietly. "He kept his word. And he gave me choices."

"Choices?"

"Like... He wouldn't let me starve. That crap he gave me first was disgusting, but it wasn't poison and it wasn't anything to make me weak and it filled my belly. And he said I could get better food if I did a chore. And then when I did a chore I'd actually get the better food. And he never took it away. He never let me starve."

"Go on," said the Father, for the boy seemed to hesitate.

"And then there's other stuff. Like he talked to me. He talked to me like I was a person. And he let me talk too. And he always warned me, like if he wanted me to shut up, he'd tell me first and if I went on he'd hurt me, but if I stopped it wouldn't hurt."

He sounded like he didn't quite understand that.

"It was usually like that. He wouldn't just use pain and not fucking explain what the hell like the others would. When I stole the crystal he was angry. And when I attacked that guy he was fucking mad. But he didn't go off in blind rage to hurt me as much as he could. Well, he did that last time, I guess, but there I think I kinda mighta been wrong. And he stopped too. I've had a lot worse for much less. He was more... fair." The boy sounded surprised at his own thoughts.

Though Father Maxwell didn't quite understand everything his guest said, he grasped the scope of it. The young man was used to being treated badly, but now he was in a place that was less bad than before. From some of the things he said, it might even have been better than that. "Did you perhaps like living there?"

"No way," he said resolutely. But then he was quiet for a moment. "I couldn't. Could I?"

"Why not?"

"Cuz he still made me do things! I don't want to be made to do things. I want to be free!"

"You're free now."

"Yeah."

"You don't sound happy about it?"

"No it's just... I've been free before, you know. But I was just a kid and I lived in the streets cuz I couldn't work cuz no one would take a kid."

"You're not a kid anymore."

"No, but I still got no skills that anyone would want." The young man answered. "And they'll have noticed by now that I'm gone so people will be looking."

"Hmm." The Father thought about that for a moment. "So what was your plan when you ran?"

"I didn't plan to run, remember?" The young man said. "Planned to kill him and drug myself and be woken up the next morning right in his room."

"I see." There was something he wondered about though. "If you planned to wake up in that room anyway, then when you couldn't kill him, why did you run?"

The boy had to think about that for a moment. "I guess I got scared."

"Of what?"

"Of him."

"Of Heero Yuy? Why? That he would find out?"

"He woulda never known." Duo spoke those words with conviction. "It's just... He confuses me. And he scares me, you know. He makes me do stuff, like do it on my own. I can't figure out how he's doing it, but it's like he... He's bending me. And I tell myself it's enough and I won't go any further no matter what and then he shows up again and before I know what happened I bent further anyway."

Father Maxwell had trouble putting himself in the young man's position, but he didn't think he needed to. "Why does that scare you?"

Duo shifted on the other side of the wood. "What if I break?"

Wasn't breaking someone a lot easier than just making them bend to your will? From what he had heard about Lord Yuy from his sister he still had trouble believing what the occupant on the other side told him. "What makes you think he will let you?"

"You think he cares?" He sounded genuinely surprised, like he hadn't thought of that yet.

"Well, it seems to me like it would be a lot of effort for someone to make someone bend just to break them."

"Why would he care whether I bend or break?"

That was not the Father's place to figure out. "Can you think of no answer?"

For a while again the young man was silent. Then he said "Man, it's getting stuffy in here. I'm done." And without further warning, Father Maxwell heard the door on the other side open and saw the boy's figure leave. Very well. This had definitely not been a conversation he'd expect to be having today when he woke up this morning, but that was just the thing about God's plans. He worked in mysterious ways, but never without reason.

When he left his booth, Duo was waiting for him. "So, everything I just said was just between you and me, right? You're really not gonna tell anyone?"

"You have my word." The Father said. "Unless you give me permission, I shall speak of it to no one."

"Good." He looked worried. "Good. So, I think I'll be going now."

"Where will you go?" Had he done enough?

"No offence, sir, cause you've been nice t' me an' all," the boy said, "but that's really none of your business."

"You don't know, do you," Father Maxwell guessed. "You left without a plan and you still haven't formed one yet."

The young man shrugged. "But I made it here. And I'll make it out there."

"You're welcome to stay for a while."

"Nah, I can't," he said, continuing for the door. "Thanks for the breakfast an' all. See ya."

Would he? Would he see him again? Father Maxwell wondered. "Go with God."

-AOAO-

The next morning proceeded quite similarly to the morning before for Father Maxwell. Normally that was not an oddity as the priest liked his morning routine, but today it meant that he again found a figure sleeping on one of the benches in his church –one with the same black clothes as yesterday and the same lengthy braid. The Father frowned up at the heavens. So his task was not done yet, after all. He'd had a feeling it wasn't

This time the young man woke up before the Father touched him. He looked up at the Father for a moment, then grinned. "Oh, hey."

"Hello." Father Maxwell said with a slight bow. "I see you've returned."

"Yeah." The young man pushed himself to a sitting position and threw his braid over his shoulder. "You said I was always welcome here."

"And you are," the Father said. "Would you like to share breakfast with me again?"

"Actually..." The young man hesitated, looking behind him. "I was kinda wondering if I could talk to your God some more."

"Of course," the Father answered, "but let's have breakfast first, hmm?"

During breakfast, Duo didn't let on much about where he'd been since he left yesterday, nor why he was back. On the latter part he just said he wanted to talk to his God again, but by the way he was gobbling down his breakfast, the Father wondered how much the young man had eaten at all since he left the church the day before. So when breakfast was over and the table cleared, the Father took him to the confessional once again and they both entered.

"I'm back," Duo started.

"So it seems," Father Maxwell answered. "Will you tell me why you returned?"

"I kinda didn't know what else to do," the young man confessed.

"How come?"

"I dunno," he started and the Father felt this was another of those times where he should wait and see what happened. Indeed it wasn't long before the occupant in the other booth went on. "I've lived on the streets before. I know the rules, I know how it works. But somehow this time was different."

"Different how?"

"Well, last time I was a kid. I guess that could be some of it. But I dunno, I don't think that's it. I mean... it's kinda hard to explain." Again, Father Maxwell practiced patience. "I was out there all by myself, minding my own business and then before I knew it, it was already getting darker and I was hungry and I was getting cold. I needed a place to sleep. I know where to go. I remember how to select the best places, like where no one will bother you and all, but guess what, they were already occupied! And I wasn't welcome."

Of course, he wasn't the only homeless man in the city.

"I coulda fought for a spot, I guess. Done that before too and some of those pathetic jerks looked like just blowing at them would tip 'em over, ya know, but I just didn't feel like it. And it made no sense. But..." The young man on the other end swallowed and shifted, seemingly growing more and more uncomfortable and finally sighed and went silent.

"Yes?"

"But..." The young man started again, though his voice had grown quiet. "All I could think was that if I hadn't run away, I'd at least have a full belly and shelter and blankets. I tried to think of all the bad things, but my stomach hurt so much and I was getting so cold and it's not even winter yet. I hate the cold." He added as an afterthought.

"You miss your home?"

"Home." It sounded like he was trying out a foreign word. "Home? No way."

"Why not?"

"Cuz I hate everything about that place!"

They had gone over that already yesterday. The Father didn't want to repeat the same conversation. He'd rather continue it. "Yesterday you asked yourself if that man would let you break." He said carefully. "Have you found the answer yet?"

"He doesn't want me to break." The doubt he had yesterday when he wondered was gone now. "He said he wanted my spirit. Compared me to a fucking blowfish."

A what? Oh, it didn't matter. Duo had his answer.

"Man, I shoulda never left. Not without a plan."

"Do you want to go back?"

"You kiddin'?" The young man said. "D'you know what they do to runaways? He'd fucking kill me!"

"If you could, would you want to return?"

"No way!" He started, but it was quickly followed by an "I dunno. It's better than the streets. Hell, it's the best I ever had an' that's just sad. But it's not what I ever wanted." He sighed. "Though maybe it's like she said." He added. "It puts a roof over my head and it feeds me. She can't change what she is neither, but she makes the best of it and she's fine with that."

The boy fell silent again and Father Maxwell thought it time for him to speak. "If you did want to go home, perhaps I could help."

"Really?" He said sceptically. "And what could you do?"

"I could talk to Lord Yuy," the Father offered.

"What good would that do?"

"I am a messenger of God. People tend to listen to me." He wouldn't have chosen this profession if he did not have a way with words. It was perhaps God's greatest gift to him.

"You think you'd get him to not kill me?"

"I think I can manage that. If you'd like me to," he added.

"I dunno."

"You're scared?"

The boy snorted. "Hell yeah," he answered, "remember the part where he can make my insides feel like fire with just a touch?"

"Nothing worth having ever comes easy."

"I guess not," the young man sighed. "So how would you wanna do it?"

"I can take you there now, if you'd like."

"Now?" Duo said taken aback. "I dunno, I-I..."

"Putting it off won't make it easier."

"I-" The young man let out his breath. "Oh what the hell. If I don't do it now I probably won't at all."

"Very well." They'd just have to go by one of the deacons first so someone could cancel the plans he had made for today. It seemed God had other plans for him today.

"What could you say to him to make him listen to you?"

"Whatever you'll allow."

* * *

Lord Heero Yuy's mood had been bad all day. It had been bad since yesterday actually, since he discovered that his Shinigami was not anywhere on his property. The slave had run and his guards hadn't seen a thing. And the worst part was that he'd managed to steal the crystal as well. Heero had been too drunk to remember exactly where he'd put it last night, but he was certain he'd taken it up to his room. It had not left his pocket before the guests had left the house.

What were guards good for if not for preventing people from moving around unseen? They still had no idea how the slave got away or what route he had taken. The entire premises had been searched multiple times, but there was just nothing, not a damned clue of what had happened.

The Shinigami going missing was not a small thing. The boy was dangerous when he wanted to be. Of course his Father was more concerned with the loss of face when this disgrace would come out and had told him in no uncertain terms he would not have anything to do with it. It was his son's mess and so it was up to Heero to clean it up.

It wasn't as if he had time to spare in the first place. He'd barely slept last night, going to bed well after midnight finishing the work he hadn't been able to do during the day because he had to discreetly raise the alarm about a possibly murderous slave running around and he'd been woken at dawn to hear reports of the city guards searching the night.

He had never had his best friend and Crown Prince so angry with him. The prince's respect for the Yuy family and the work they did usually worked in his advantage, but yesterday when he spoke to him he might as well have been a country boy when he told the blond prince he had lost the Shinigami. All of a sudden he fully understood why people tried so hard to stay on his good side. It had been a humiliating moment and one which would only get worse if they didn't manage to find the runaway slave before someone got hurt.

So when Geoffrey told him there was someone at the door who wouldn't speak with anyone but him and refused to leave it should be no surprise that he was immediately pissed off. Who the hell had the guts to demand his personal attention?

"He's still waiting?"

"Yes, My Lord." The man had been waiting since before lunch and it was now well after.

"Very well." Heero got up from his chair. "I'll see him." They didn't need more trouble and one man could cause a lot of that.

Heero followed his butler to the door to find an elderly man on his doorstep, all dressed in black with a white collar. The man seemed oddly non-threatening for someone who refused to leave. He looked somewhat familiar as well, though Heero was quite certain he'd never seen him before. The man was not alone, Heero noticed. He'd brought a servant along, who stood quietly in the back, wearing a dark cloak wrapped around him and keeping his hood up

"Lord Yuy?" The man made a slight bow. "I am Father Maxwell, from the Maxwell church in the capital." A member of the clergy? Heero never cared much for religions. Surely this man was not making such trouble for just a donation?

"What do you want?" Heero was in no mood to be pleasant with anybody, much less a man demanding his attention.

"I ran into someone whom I believe belongs to your household."

At that, the servant Heero had dismissed raised his hands to his hood and gingerly lowered it, revealing his face. Duo?! His look of surprise swiftly turned into a glare and he was surprised to see the usually so unaffected Shinigami actually cringe slightly, taking a defensive step back. "You." The anger in his voice was unmistakable.

"Please, Lord Yuy," the churchman intercepted and he actually dared taking a step sideways as if to shield the slave. "I was hoping we could talk."

Heero turned his glare to the man. "You presume to keep me from taking back my rightful property?"

The man remained surprisingly calm under Heero's stare. "Of course not, Lord Yuy. I merely hope you would hear what I have to say."

Heero ignored him and turned back to the slave. "Inside." He said in a tight voice, balling his fists in an effort to restrain his own anger. "Now."

The boy flinched at his tone, but was smart enough not to argue. Upon the Shinigami revealing his identity, the guards that had already been watching since the moment these men appeared on his grounds were closing in carefully. They were on full alert. The boy would no longer be able to escape. He seemed to know it, as he hurried forward. He passed Heero without looking at him, but Heero saw the terror on his face as he entered. He grabbed the slave's arm and made him turn around to look at him.

"The crystal."

The slave's hand was shaking as he reached into his pocket and drew out the silver stone that was no use to him other than for assuring Heero couldn't use it on him instead. As soon as it appeared, Heero snatched it out of his hand. "Take him to the basement." He unhanded the slave, who was immediately grabbed by two guards and pulled away.

"Lord Yuy, a word, if you please."

Heero turned back to face the elderly man still on his doorstep. "I have nothing to say to you." If the man expected a reward for returning his slave, he could forget it.

"Then please listen." Heero turned to walk away. "The only reason Duo came here with me is because he wanted to return."

Geoffrey was about to shut the door, but with a simple hand gesture, Heero stopped him and considered those words for a moment. "Come in."

* * *

rlyblue

So, the only chapter where we actually hear Duo's thoughts. I deliberately didn't write his POV anywhere so people can decide for themselves how he would think, but I felt it neccesary to explain his way of thinking at this point. Please let me know what you think of his reasoning, does it sound believable? Can you see the logic in him going back?


	20. 19: The game

Hi all and here's hapter 19, and on time this week! I'm glad you can see the logic behind Duo's return to captivity. He realises it's not the best of the best, b ut it's not such a bad deal either and Father Maxwell helped him realise that.

Thanks are metnioned in earlier chapters

Warnings: Abuse, torture

* * *

**19: The Game**

The north of Elfor was surprisingly cheap. By the time Trowa reached the border he still had most of his silver left. He'd heard that in the North silver wasn't very useful. There were few people still willing to trade with Elfor since the last war. Beyond the border, trade was conducted without currency and silver meant very little to them.

Still he decided to hold on to his pouch for now. After all, if he ever wanted to go home he'd need it again.

It had been quite clear to Trowa when he'd crossed the border. He couldn't explain it, but he had known immediately that he was no longer in Elfor. Somehow the North felt different. Fresh. It was as if a weight he hadn't known he was carrying had been lifted off his shoulders. Or perhaps it had just been replaced with something else, because this place didn't feel too good. It somehow felt dangerous too.

Well, he'd arrived north, but he wasn't sure what to do. His plan had been to travel to the North, knowing that was where he originated from. But now that he made it this far he realised he hadn't actually planned beyond that and he wasn't sure what to do. It had been two days since Trowa had crossed the border and in that time he hadn't seen a soul. Not a human soul, anyway. He'd seen animals, plenty of them. He'd crossed the border through a forest he believed to be Sogran Forest if he'd remembered the map he'd seen in one of the last villages he'd come across correctly. He'd been surprised to find such a large stretch of forest this far north, for it was quite cold here. Despite it being summertime he found himself wearing multiple layers of clothing just to keep warm and his breath made clouds in the air whenever he released it. It wasn't snowing yet, but the air was cold and damp and Trowa wasn't certain he liked that.

He remembered the name from the book about magic which Prince Quatre had given him and he had deliberately chosen to cross the border here. The book had mentioned a certain lake in this area in which soil was supposed to tell you whether or not you could do magic. The book had been vague about it and Trowa was not certain he believed it in the first place, but he figured there was no harm in trying. Unfortunately the map he had seen hadn't gone much beyond the border so he had no idea where in this vast forest that lake was supposed to be, or if it even existed. But it was the only lead he had.

It was two days since he had last seen anyone. He had brought some rations with him, but they weren't going to last him long. With all the trouble in the east and the refugees coming north, the shops in the villages hadn't had much food to sell, certainly nothing that lasted very long and what they did have they did not seem eager to sell to just another stranger passing through. This forest didn't seem too rich on food either. There were few fruit bushes and trees and in any case he had no idea which ones would be edible or not. He'd tried some oddly blue berries he'd seen a bird eat from. They'd been quite bitter, but as far as he could tell they were edible. Still he'd only seen a few bushes containing those berries. There wasn't nearly enough of them to sustain him for long.

He'd seen some small animals and some evidence of larger game, but he was no hunter. He'd been a slave for most of his life. He hadn't been trained in handling weapons. The closest he'd come to any form of hunting was a fishing trip Prince Quatre had taken him on a couple of years ago.

That would just have to do, he decided. If he could find that lake -or any lake for that matter- he would make himself a rod and fish. Perhaps those berries could serve as bait, or otherwise he'd have to try and find some worms. He'd seen those around last night when he'd made camp for himself.

That sounded like a plan. First things first. To find fish he'd have to find water. He continued on the dirt road he was on and every now and then he'd stop to listen if he could hear water running anywhere. It was a good hour later when his patience paid off, for in the distance he surely heard the distinct sound of rumbling water. It would require him to leave the path in order to get to the source of the sound, but what other choice did he have? He was starting to run out of rations and that included water to drink. And besides, so far he hadn't come across any recent signs that suggested dangerous predators being around, as far as he could tell.

He stirred his stallion in the direction of the sound and before long he came upon a wide river, its current flowing fast towards what Trowa gathered to be the north-west. He decided to follow it. He had no idea whether or not the river would end in a lake, or if it did, how long it would take him to reach it, but he figured it was his best shot. Here he figured the river's current was too strong to be good for fishing. Well, at least he could draw water from it. So Trowa decided to take a small break, let his horse drink, fill his water skin and then he went on his way again, downstream.

It was just past midday when he saw it, a white glow in the distance. He didn't know what it was, but for some reason he felt immediately drawn to it. He didn't like that very much. He felt like he had to go there, but he could not for the life of him name a reason why and Trowa liked to think things through rather than act on impulse. Still, the light came from downstream and that was where he was headed anyway.

The glow became stronger as he followed the river further downstream. The sound the river made was getting louder as well and the current seemed to grow more wild, but Trowa hardly noticed. His eyes were fixated on the glow which grew stronger every hour. He guessed he was nearly there now. He had to be, or else he would surely go blind if he had to go much further. Hoping to reach the source of the glow before full darkness he sped up his horse despite the lack of a decent road.

Trees and rocks and bushes passed by at a steady pace as he urged the stallion on. Almost there now. It was as if he could feel it! There, just beyond that tree line! That had to be it! Just a little further! A few more metres and he would reach it!

"Woah!" With a start he pulled the reigns hard and his horse stopped just in time. The source was there alright, right down the cliff on which edge his horse was dancing on. His impatience nearly got him killed! Trowa urged the horse a few steps back and got off. He wanted to go down there badly, but he had to calm down and think. It was only then that he noticed the thundering voice of the river ending in a waterfall. With a sound so deafening Trowa was quite surprised he had missed it before, the water fell down the cliff to gather into a large clearing. A lake!

The source of the light was there at the edge of the lake. Did that mean this was the lake he was looking for? Clearly he had to get down there, but the cliff was too dangerous to climb, not to mention he'd have to leave his horse and he was not about to do that. No, he'd just have to find another route down.

* * *

It had been a month since the slave had run away. The first few days the boy had spent in the basement, in one of his father's dungeon cells where his loud screams would not upset the household while he was being punished. And punished he was. The words the priest had said to him didn't change anything about the fact that the boy had run away, sought his freedom. That he had come back on his own accord only meant that Heero would not actually beat him bloody and to within an inch of his life. The crystal did not cause actual physical injuries. It just caused a hell of a lot of pain.

The first few days the boy learned what the crystal could really do. Four times a day Heero would go down to the dungeon to make the boy scream for half an hour or so. He let him have food, but it was the same disgusting grey stuff he had offered the first week, enough to fill him but nothing to give him pleasure. At first he fought the pain, trying to escape from his bonds, but the shackles were connected to chains attached to the wall. Though these were not the chains Heero could contract, they did not give the boy much leeway, just enough to sit down.

On day three the boy started begging for forgiveness, in the evening even before Heero started administer the punishment. Heero ignored it. He had yet to say a word to the slave, who knew damn well why he was here and why this was happening. On the fourth day the boy had screamed himself hoarse. He smelled from his own excrements which Heero had deliberately not cleaned up. By day five, the boy didn't try to beg anymore, nor did he try to escape his bonds. He just waited, slumped, for the pain to start up again, never even looking up at his master. After the fourth punishment of that day, Heero dumped a bucket of cold water over the slave and released him for Helen to clean up.

His punishment was far from over, though. If he'd run once, he could run again. So from then on the slave was kept on a leash, a chain, its length depending on the chore the boy was to do, for Heero refused to just let him sit comfortable in the bedroom, doing nothing, being lazy. Only Helen and Heero had the key to unlock the slave's leash, so his freedom was always limited.

And of course, Heero no longer tolerated anything but the best and most submissive behaviour. The slave would not speak out of turn. He was to obey any of Heero's orders immediately, without delay. When Heero entered the bedroom, he was expected to kneel submissively, his eyes on the floor, his hands behind his back, not moving until Heero told him to, which on some evenings could take hours. He could answer Heero's questions directly, but otherwise he was required to remain silent. That was perhaps the hardest thing for the slave, for he'd enjoyed being able to talk before. Basically, Heero was training him to be the good slave he was supposed to be. He used the crystal without mercy until the slave worked himself to absolute perfection, which meant he still got shocked by the crystal three or four times a day. But he was learning. He was adjusting.

And Heero was met with remarkably little resistance. Of course, when resistance came, it was immediately followed by pain, therefore most slaves would want to learn quickly. But the Shinigami was not like most slaves, or at least he hadn't been. Previous owners had attempted training through pain and they had failed miserably, no matter how much pain they'd applied. So why Heero was succeeding now where they had failed was a mystery even to him.

The only thing which wasn't improving was the blindfold training. Had the slave before been able to follow his instructions for over an hour before becoming too nervous while wearing it; he now started fidgeting the moment he saw the thing. When he was blindfolded, he had trouble following orders and tended to forget the difference between left and right. He'd already hit the corner of his bed hard enough to cause a bleeding wound because of it. Punishing him only seemed to make it worse.

The young lord knew why this was happening. The slave had lost trust in his master. Did he really need that trust? Heero had decided that he didn't really, he just needed him to obey and that much was working. Besides, he found that he didn't trust the slave anymore either. Just working from his bedroom in the evening distracted him now, so he rarely did it. In fact, aside from training he rarely spent any time with the Shinigami at all.

The time he used to spend with the slave was now spent with the foreign lord. Master Wu Fei, heir to the High Seat of Chang, seemed pleased with this and Heero was finding some of the things the dark haired man had to say quite interesting. Master Wu Fei was also an accomplished fighter –warrior was the word he used himself. In the evenings, before the sun would set completely, the two men were often found in the back yard, sparring with each other. That proved quite interesting. Knights were trained to attack head on, bluntly coming at their opponent, beating them until they died. In Wu Fei's lands they learned to wait, bide their time, attack when they saw an opening with such force that the opponent was immediately defeated.

Heero had never had such trouble fighting an opponent as when he fought Wu Fei. The other man's techniques were unfamiliar to him and his reflexes were dangerously quick. The only things that kept him standing during their matches were his stamina -his ability to take hits- and his reaction speed.

Wu Fei had brought along his own weapon, a sword curved like the ones sailors wore, though longer and thin. Unlike the swords of Elfor's knights, only one edge was sharp, but it was sharp as a razor. It could cut the leg to a point of bleeding without tearing the fabric of the pants worn over it. And when Wu Fei wielded the weapon, he did so with the same precision, the same concentration and the same patience as when he fought hand to hand.

It was almost frightening to think that just a few countries away there were more people like this man, equally as skilled in combat. The only comfort to Heero was that in his country people often fought amongst themselves, clan versus clan. They were for the moment too busy doing that to focus on advancing towards their east, but the Lord Yuy wondered what would happen the day those clans learned to co-operate and decided to expand their territory. Hopefully, that day was still a few lifetimes away and hopefully his own people would have gained some military advantages by then.

"One more round." They were using wooden versions of their respective weapons and minimal armour.

Heero took the hand the foreign lord offered him to help him up.

"Are you certain?" Wu Fei asked, glancing at Heero's forehead. "It's getting dark." At least the heir to the High Seat of Chang knew how to avoid calling him weak.

Still, Lord Yuy had seen him glance and his pride would not allow him to back down now. "There should be enough light for one last round."

The dark haired lord nodded and raised his wooden weapon, gripping it tightly with one hand. "Very well. One last round."

Heero grabbed his own wooden practise sword with two hands and turned to the other man, who was focussing on the next round by closing his eyes. A habit he displayed more often. Suddenly, Heero charged forward and before the other man could react, Lord Yuy had his sword on the foreigner's shoulder, one edged side pressing to his neck. "You can't expect to win with closed eyes," he said.

"That wasn't fair," Wu Fei objected. "I was still preparing."

"The enemy won't wait quietly for you to finish preparations." Heero interjected, keeping his sword where he'd put it.

The other man scowled and his mouth moved to speak, but then he hesitated. He muttered something in his own language which Heero interpreted as swearing. "Very well. I yield this round to you."

The man was one with honour and Heero treated him as such. He just nodded and withdrew his sword. The other man bowed and Heero copied him. It was a sign of respect in Wu Fei's culture when two equals bowed equally before and after a mock fight. "Shall I see you in the library tonight?" The foreigner asked while he put away his sword.

"I intend to retire there, after I bathe." Lord Yuy started taking off his armour.

"Good. I'd like to go over some of the requests from the north. I fear I am not certain what they mean to ask of you." Heero had assigned Wu Fei to handling requests from nobles in the north. The man had been prepped for leadership and had therefore been raised in the political field as well as the military. He knew how to do business and he had been sent here to learn about their way of doing things. He had learned quickly about the structure Elfor employed and was quite adept at handling nobles. Heero still checked his work regularly as he would be held responsible for any communication the foreign lord sent, but he rarely had to intervene. The heir of Chang was quite competent. He was saving Heero a lot of work. He would be sad to see him go.

"Very well." With harvest time slowly coming to an end the requests would naturally change in content. No doubt that was what he wished to discuss.

"Will you bring Duo this evening?"

Heero frowned and glanced back at the foreign lord. "Why do you ask?"

"I just haven't seen him in a while," Wu Fei answered.

"You see him every meal," Heero answered

"Yes, that is true. What I meant to say -pardon my straightforwardness- was that I rarely see him accompany you anymore. I thought he was your personal servant?"

Heero frowned. It was not often Master Wu Fei inquired after his personal affairs. "You are aware of his last offence."

"His last offence?" Wu Fei asked. "You are referring to him running away?"

"Yes."

"That was a while ago," the foreign lord said. "I would have thought the matter would be resolved by now."

"It is more complicated than that," Heero answered, picking up his armour and sword. "But if you wish it, I shall bring him."

"If you please." Wu Fei bowed. "I shall see you in the library then."

When Heero reached his bedroom, the slave was kneeling submissively as Heero had shown him. "Draw my bath." The servants should have heated the water by now. He gave the slave more chain so he could reach the bath and started undressing himself. One of Wu Fei's attacks had hit him quite hard just below his ribs and he could feel a mark forming there. He carefully took off his shirt and examined the spot. That might take a few days to heal, a reminder of how skilled his opponent really was.

The slave finished drawing the bath, knelt in front of his master and began removing his boots. He was keeping his eyes down as a good slave should and remained silent as he continued to help Heero out of his pants. He followed him to the bathroom, prepared the soap and started washing him. A month ago this would all have occurred with the boy complaining about having to do this, probably a masked insult or two, but Heero had him trained not to utter a word. The crystal controlling the boy's chains was always within his reach and just out of the slave's arm length and the Shinigami knew he would use it.

In scrubbing him, the slave brushed hard over Heero's welt and Lord Yuy hissed. He lashed out with his hand and his fingertips connected with the slave's cheek as the boy flinched away. "Stupid slave," Heero muttered. "Be more careful!"

"Yes, Master." A practised answer. The boy got back to work quietly, being more careful around that area.

"Towel." When Heero finished bathing the boy began helping him dry himself, but Heero brushed him off. "Lay out clothes for the evening." The boy left the bathroom and Heero watched him retreat.

Once he had called him 'Duo'. Once the boy had two personalities constantly switching, one slowly calming down, the other getting used to his new life. Once Heero had enjoyed spending time around that person. This wasn't him anymore. This was just a shadow, an empty shell which once housed the spirited young man he'd bought to give himself a challenge.

Now he didn't call him Duo anymore. He had made the mistake of trusting the boy and he couldn't do that again. It had created the chance for him to run away. The Shinigami was never to let loose like that again. So the name 'Duo' was not applied anymore, he just called him 'slave', as was his status. Heero needed to remember that.

The slave helped him dress and moved to stand back at the wall, expecting to be settled there like so many evenings before. A mild surprise showed on his face when Heero detached his chains, applied a leash instead and started out of the room. "Come."

"Where are we- ow!" Heero jerked the chain attached to the collar to shut the boy up. Asking questions was not the place of a slave and the boy knew it.

Wu Fei wasn't in the library yet when they arrived. Apparently in his culture they had even entire rituals for something so simple as bathing. They liked to take their time with anything they did. For a people torn by civil wars they were sure slow about their daily routine.

Lord Yuy threw a pillow to the floor for his slave to kneel on and put the leash in his lap. He shifted the crystal so that he could easily reach it and sat back, taking the glass of wine his butler had already provided for him. He then noticed a cup of milk was also present. Strange. He had not ordered it and Geoffrey didn't like the slave enough to put that there without being told to. Had Wu Fei said something? Heero wasn't certain if he was pleased with that conclusion, but the milk was here now. No use wasting it. He wordlessly handed it to his slave. The slave took the cup and sipped it quietly, keeping his head down.

Master Wu Fei entered the library not much later, carrying several papers. "Lord Yuy." He glanced at the slave before taking his seat. "Your father provided me with a certain item and I was wondering if you could explain it to me." From one of his pockets, the foreign lord took a pipe and looked at it wonderingly. "He said it was used for smoking. Does he mean for me to put it in the fire?" He asked, holding it out.

"No." Heero frowned at the foreigner's lack of knowledge and took the pipe. "This end is where you put a substance called tobacco," he explained, pointing at the larger opening. "You light that with a fire and inhale through the other end."

"Tobacco?" Wu Fei took a small bag from another pocket and looked at it thoughtfully. "I was wondering what this was for." He took the pipe back and entered the contents into the pipe, then moved to the fireplace.

"Why did my father not explain it himself?" Wu Fei and the elder Lord Yuy dined together often enough, exchanging information mostly about food. Heero had joined them on some occasions, but found the conversations held nothing to his interest and therefore stayed away as often as he could.

"We were interrupted," Wu Fei answered, using a smouldering log to try and light his pipe. "I forgot about it until noticed it again this evening." The pipe started smoking and the foreign master sat back in his chair again. "Now inhale through here?"

"Yes."

Cautiously, Wu Fei put his mouth to the small end of the pipe and inhaled. Almost immediately he pulled it out of his mouth again and started coughing. "What the..." He looked at the pipe. "I'm inhaling smoke! Why?"

Heero shrugged. "That is why it's called 'smoking'. It's supposed to be relaxing, once you are used to it." Smoking was something only few people did, but it was a growing habit among the nobles. Heero had tried it once or twice, but found he had rarely the patience one needed to just sit back and enjoy the effect.

"Odd." Wu Fei studied the pipe a little more. "Where does this come from?"

"The south," Heero answered. "Apparently it was introduced by a ship captain as a gift to his lord when they conquered a cluster of islands."

"The south of your land, it borders the sea?"

"It does," Heero answered.

"And the islands beyond it, are they your territory as well?" Wu Fei asked.

"Some of them."

"I have seen maps of the region," Wu Fei said. "With your military force you should be able to conquer quite a wide area to your south. So why don't you?"

Heero sipped his wine before he answered. "King Winner is more focussed on defence than offence," was his answer. It was true, the current king had not called for conquering, instead decided to settle for what he had and work towards prosperity for his people.

"I do not understand your unwillingness to expand your kingdom." Wu Fei said, looking at the pipe again. "Why trade for items such as this tobacco when you could just take them?"

"It is the king's choice," Heero simply answered. "What he wants, goes. And he doesn't want to conquer."

"Your king is growing old. What of his son?" Wu Fei asked. "Will he follow in his father's footsteps?"

"If you're looking for an opening to invade us, I should warn you," Heero said lightly. "Our Crown Prince may appear to be a gentle, caring heir, but he is far from weak."

"He married the daughter of the Sanq kingdom," Wu Fei commented. "While I can see how that has supported King Zechs' claim to the throne, having Elfor as an ally at his back, I do not see the advantage for your kingdom."

"Having Sanq as an ally prevented the North from striking at us from our west," Heero explained.

"I thought you said the North is not organised enough to strike back?"

"For the most part, they are not," said Heero, "but their west seems to be reaching some sort of stability."

"So, to your east you have several smaller nations, most notably Tallgeese, too small and too focussed on its own east to be a danger to you."

"Focussed on the east _because_ they can pose no threat to us," Heero corrected.

"On your north is a country heavily defeated by you not long ago and involved in civil wars of its own. And to your west you have an ally preventing the north from invading via their lands."

"Indeed."

"And to your south?" Wu Fei asked. "The islands you are not invading?"

"Beyond those islands are the empires of Geminass and Aesculapius," Lord Yuy explained. "Their strong naval units could be a threat, but before they can reach us, they would need to pass the independent isles between them and us. We would see them coming easily, and even then only a small part of our country is accessible by sea. Their skills in warfare on land aren't that great."

The heir of Chang considered this for a moment. "So basically you are using the independent islands as a buffer against them?"

"And they against us," Heero admitted.

"A different strategy for each side. But Sanq is not yet secured," Wufei pointed out. "King Zechs has yet to take a wife and produce an heir. Will he marry one of the king's daughters to strengthen the relationship?"

Heero shook his head. "Doubtful," he said. "King Winner has offered, I believe, but having only us as an ally may not be enough in the years to come. King Zechs' greatest enemies come from within. He would be wise to strike a bargain with one of the stronger noble houses and marry one of their daughters."

"But if he chooses the wrong house, his rule may still collapse," Wu Fei offered.

"Hence why he is hesitating."

"Is this what you call the Games?" The foreign lord asked. "Politics, houses moving for their own advantage."

"The Game," Heero correct. "Not plural. They all play on the same board. But yes, that is what they mean with it. Through politics and small military movements you cripple your enemy families, advance your own family, reach for the stars."

"And what of you?" Wu Fei asked. "You are about as high as you can go without actually entering the Royal family. Aren't you a target?"

"For some," Heero nodded. "We're keeping an eye on it. But the job my family performs for the Royal family is not one any can fulfil. The king depends on us for stability. We are supposed to be above the Game, not taking part in it."

"So they leave you alone?"

"For the most part." Heero nodded. "We have earned the royal family's trust through generations of hard work. We work with them and are monitored directly by them."

"Sounds like a preferable arrangement, even if you don't govern your own piece of land." Wu Fei commented. "I would prefer your position over one in the Game, were I not like your Royalty myself."

Heero frowned at that. "Isn't the Game similar to how the clans work in your region?"

Wu Fei laughed at that. "Our clans don't involve themselves in politics the way your noble houses do."

"No, but they fight each other for dominance over a region, trying to advance their own over others," Heero pointed out. "They may use military tactics rather than political ones, but in the end, you all want to come out on top."

"Hmm, if you put it that way I suppose there are some similarities."

At that moment the door to the library opened and Geoffrey entered with a bottle of wine. "Leave the bottle." Heero said to his butler. "This one can keep our glasses full." He nudged the slave with his foot and the boy immediately responded. Wu Fei seemed to watch him intently as he worked, but said nothing. When Geoffrey had left the library and the slave filled their glasses and returned to his place by Heero's feet, Lord Yuy spoke again. "I believe you had some questions for me regarding requests that came in?"

* * *

princess/rlyblue

So Trowa is trying to find magic and Heero isn't sure what to think of Duo anymore. This chapter is mainly a setup for the next chapter, for both Trowa and Heero, as chapter twenty will be the last one. Oh no, what will happen there? Ho do you guys think this story will end?


	21. 20: The point of no return

So here's the last chapter. I hope it pleases you, but I'm afraid some of you won't be completely content with this ending. Let that be a warning.

Loads of thanks to my lovely beta readers SFA and Nightshade, who stuck with me to the end. Thanks to my readers for reading and my reviewers for letting me know you like the story. I love every review I get and it's been fun writing for you guys. Special thanks to JJ for giving me so many reviews.

Warnings: Depression, sexual content (not completely consensual), manipulation.

* * *

**20: The point of no return**

Last night he'd had the dream again. All was exactly as it had been every time before, except for the end. This time, the woman had not told him to find her. Instead she'd said they would meet soon. Like the other times, he could again not remember her face, but somehow the dream had left him with a feeling it lay somewhere just beyond his reach, as if he only needed to try a little harder and he would remember. But try as he might, the features just wouldn't come to him. The only thing he thought he remembered was her brown, curly hair.

The route down the cliff had taken him nearly a full day. All that time the bright light kept beckoning him, luring him closer. And then he'd reached the last line of trees separating him from the lake. He'd felt an excitement he was unfamiliar with as he crossed that line to search for the source of the light, but then the light had disappeared. Trowa had looked around for it, but there was nothing here which indicated it could have given off such a bright light and for so long. There was just the lake in the middle of the woods. It was a large lake, though. He could barely see the shore on the other side in this twilight. He had a feeling this might indeed be the lake from his book.

Disappointed that the light had disappeared, Trowa had made himself a fire and consumed another portion of rations that would have to do for dinner. Then he'd decided to try out this lake, which his book claimed should be able to tell whether or not he really possessed the gift of magic and how strong it would be. He checked again, but the book was a little vague on how to do that, though. According to the chapter describing the lake, he'd just have to collect some sand and hold it over the fire somehow. He doubted it would work -it seemed almost too simple- but what harm was there in trying?

He took off his shoes and socks and walked towards the lake. He watched for a moment as the water gently licked the sand in front of his toes, then took another step forward. The water was cold, but somehow not as cold as he had expected. The temperature here in the forest was probably a few degrees above freezing, but the water felt just a little warmer than that. Had the summer air managed to heat it somehow? It didn't matter. Trowa pulled back the sleeve of his thick coat and reached down to grab a handful of mud. Would this be enough? He didn't know, but he figured he might as well see what happened. He took the sand back to the fire. Now hold it over? Right, how was he supposed to do that?

He held his hand over the fire, high enough that he wouldn't hurt himself and looked at it. Nothing happened. He lowered his hand a little. Still, nothing. He couldn't go much lower than this without causing himself injury. Perhaps he should use a tool to get it closer to the fire? He had a small pot he used for cooking, but it was dirty. Still, it was the only thing he could think of. He cleaned the pot with the water from the lake, filled it with mud, returned to the fire and held the pot over the fire. Still nothing happened. Gently, he lowered the pot until the flames were licking the metal, but to no avail. The mud inside remained as it was.

"What are you doing?" A humorous voice asked from behind him and Trowa jumped and turned around and there she was. One look at her and he remembered her as vivid as if he had always known her. Her light brown hair with the curls at the end caught a reddish glow in the firelight and the sweet, gentle expression was exactly as he remembered. Even her voice sounded the same. This was the woman who had called to him in his dreams.

"Are you trying to cook sand?"

"No, of course not." He was surprised she had managed to startle him. He was usually a lot more vigilant than that. Had he really become so caught up with this magic business that he'd allowed her to sneak up on him like that? Even though he felt some sort of relief at seeing her, he wasn't happy he hadn't noticed her until she spoke. She stood right out in the open!

"Well, then what are you doing?" She asked curiously.

Did she recognise him as well? If she did, she hid it perfectly. "It's nothing." He answered, regaining his posture. He took the pot out of the fire and emptied it. "A stupid idea."

She shrugged and came closer. "You didn't appear to find it stupid just now." She said and when he wouldn't answer, she walked all the way up to him. She spotted the book he'd left open at the chapter about the lake and squatted down to study it, then she chuckled. "I see."

She did?

She stood up again. "It's the wood." She said, looking around. "You'll need Rowan wood. And you need to go further into the lake for the sand."

"You know?"

She shrugged. "You get the sand, I'll get you the right wood. A handful of sand will do. You'll know when you're in far enough." And with that she started off towards the tree line.

Trowa watched her as she disappeared in the shadows. She knew what he was trying to do? Or was she just making fun of him? Somehow he doubted the latter. He was not a bad judge of character, his time with Prince Quatre had taught him much and he believed she spoke true. Still, he was a complete stranger to her and yet she offered to help him without even thinking of questioning his intentions.

He shook his head. This was the same woman as the one who had appeared to him night after night in his dreams. That could not be a coincidence. But if he decided to trust her, he would have to get into that lake again. Exactly how far in would he have to go? The water wasn't as cold as he had expected, but it was quite cold and he wasn't a great swimmer. Prince Quatre had shown him how to do it once and he'd caught on rather quickly, but that was in a shallow river where at any time he could have reached the bottom with his feet. This lake was much larger and without a doubt much deeper as well.

Reluctantly, Trowa undressed. The coldness of the soft breeze coming from the water had him shivering before he had even removed his undergarments, but he ignored it. He would need those clothes to get back warm when he came out. He carefully folded them and placed them near the fire, hoping they would soak up some of the heat it was giving off while he was out swimming.

The water was again cold to his feet, but Trowa tried to ignore it as much as he could and steadily walked further into the lake. As he had guessed, the lake deepened quickly and before he knew it, he was emerged all the way up to his shoulders. Would this be far enough yet? He didn't know. Her description that he would know if he was in far enough sounded vague. He looked back to the shore to see if she had returned yet, but she was nowhere to be seen. Had she been lying after all? Was she making a fool out of him by sending him into this lake, butt-naked? Why couldn't she have been more precise?

He turned back, figuring he'd try to swim a little further and then he saw it. The light he'd seen before, it was right there, a little further into the lake. It was just as bright as it had been when it beckoned him, only more compact now so that it did not obstruct his view as much. It seemed to illuminate the entire lake, making it look like it was made out of thousands of tiny crystals. The view was enchanting. Without a doubt he knew the source of the light was where he had to go.

Swimming came remarkably easy to him. Suddenly he realised he wasn't that cold at all. In fact, the closer he came to the light the more pleasant the water's temperature seemed to become. And then he was there, right on top of the source. He looked down, expecting to see something that made the light appear, but he there was nothing. Instead the light again seemed to have disappeared and the surface was as dark and it had always been. What was it with this light appearing and disappearing?

The only light he saw now was coming from the shore, where his fire burned. When he turned to look there he saw the woman had returned and was attempting to make a fire herself, a little away from the fire he had made, on the sandy shore. He was relieved to see she had returned. He'd better just get on with his part and get out. It took him two dives before he reached the bottom to grab himself a handful of mud. The first time he had underestimated the lake's depth here and hadn't come near the bottom, but the second time he was more successful and managed to grab a handful. The mud felt surprisingly solid in his hands, a clay-like substance rather than sand. Good, that made it all the easier to transport.

By the time he reached the shore the woman had succeeded in making a new fire and was waiting for him. Now that he was out of the water and his soaking wet skin was exposed to the cool air he was starting to get cold again. Trowa opened his hand to show the woman the mud he'd managed to hold onto and she nodded. "That will do. Hold it in both your hands for a little."

He placed his other hand atop the first one. "Like this?"

"That's fine." She said. "Just hold it like that for a few moments, then throw it in the fire." All right. He was still sceptical about this, but he figured he had nothing to lose. After a few seconds he stepped closer to the fire. "Just throw it in." she said and he did.

With a loud 'WOOSH!' the fire exploded. Hot, yellow flames shot up high, like tongues licking the sky. The blast threw a surprised Trowa back a few feet, landing him on his behind. The next second, the intense heat disappeared as the flames died down and the fire once again became the gently burning camp fire it had started out as.

Bewildered, Trowa looked around. The ground had not been scorched as one would expect from such an eruption. In fact, not a grain of sand seemed out of place. What the hell had just happened?

The woman joined him with a smile. Had she known this would happen? If so, she could have warned him. She smiled and held out a hand, helping him up. "Looks like you have quite some potential." She said. Then she showed him the item she held in her other hand. The flute? "Does this work well for you?"

"Yes" He took the flute from her almost protectively. He never liked anyone else touching it. And why did she change the subject so all of a sudden?

"It's what we call a 'luna', an item blessed by the moon. It seeks out people born with the gift. Whatever its function, the more magic you have in you, the better it works for you." She chuckled. "Considering the blast you just produced, that flute must have made you quite the musician. My name is Catherine, by the way. Catherine Bloom."

"Trowa." The former slave answered and as an afterthought he added "Barton." Since he had been her apprentice, Leia had allowed him to use that name. It suited him.

"Nice to meet you, Trowa Barton. My people are travellers. They would be very interested in meeting you."

* * *

She missed the old Duo. During his time here she had gotten used to his outgoing nature, his sarcastic comments and his constant complaints about those who gave them orders. The boy who served food now, kept on a leash and transferred between kitchen, dining room and bedroom by Helen, was someone completely different. He was quiet, drawn back and since he had returned from running away, she had not heard him laugh once.

Was it because of where he'd been? She had heard he'd gone to the capital, had heard that Helen's brother –the one with the church- had found him and convinced him to come back. Hilde found it hard to believe that Helen's brother could have done something to Duo that would make him this way, but she also wouldn't have thought anyone would ever actually be able in talking him into coming back once he had gained his freedom.

The other day while she was running errands in the capital she'd noticed the church and she'd wondered if perhaps she should stop by, see if Helen's brother was there, see if he knew anything. She hadn't gone, though and now she wondered if she should have. Could she have done something? Would anything she could have done have made a difference?

He was scrambling to his knees when she came through the door, but upon seeing it was her and not master Heero, he relaxed and sat back again. "Hey." He greeted her quietly. "Laundry day again?"

"Yup." It was sad how all the jest had disappeared from him voice. "Comes round every now and again."

"Well, I guess you're doing a good job then, if they keep sending you."

"I never get complaints." Compared to what he used to be, Duo was being quiet, but compared to how he had been since that incident, he was being talkative. Perhaps that was all she could do, listen when there was no master around to forbid him to talk.

"You're really a nice person, Hilde." Duo said suddenly. "I'm glad to have met you."

That startled Hilde. She paused in gathering the master's clothes to look at him. "You sound like you're trying to say goodbye."

"Well, guess I should, one of these days."

"You mean... You're going somewhere?"

The other slave shrugged. "Can't be long now." He said. "The man bought me for a challenge, but there's no challenge left for him, is there?"

"Has he..." Hilde hesitated. "Has he sold you?"

"If he hasn't yet, I'm sure he will soon," Duo answered. "I know he's had at least one offer and it wasn't a bad one neither."

Damn it. Why was he sounding so casual about it? "Do you want to go?" She asked.

"Like it ever matters what people like us want," the braided slave answered bitterly.

This was getting so frustrating! All the spirit he'd had before, all the things that she'd admired him for even back when she was nearly frozen at the thought of coming up here to him, all of that was gone. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right. "Do you want to leave?" She asked again, this time more clearly.

"They'll do whatever they want and they don't-"

"Yes or no?" She all but demanded, cutting him off.

He blinked at that. Hilde wasn't usually so straightforward, but that spirit he used to have had to still be there somewhere. It just had to be! "Well, no, but-"

"Then make him _want_ to keep you." She said firmly.

He laughed, a little of his formal sarcasm showing through. "And how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

Good question. "Prove to him that you're worth keeping," she said to him. "You must have some skills, something that could make you a valuable asset to his household."

"Like what?" He asked incredulously.

"I don't know, some secret recipe you learned, or some really fast way of cleaning something, or an invention you saw somewhere. Anything. If you really want to stay that badly, find something that will make him want to keep you."

"Wow." He said quietly, suddenly sounding amazed. "I didn't know that you cared that much."

She could feel herself blush at that. She quickly turned her back to him. "It's just... I've gotten to know you since you came here and if you leave, I won't know where you ended up or how you're doing." There was no way she'd be able to find that out once he was gone. Nobody kept track of the slaves they sold.

He sighed. "Thanks, Hilde. For everything."

As she headed out of the bedroom she wondered if they had said their final goodbyes.

* * *

He came alone. Well, he had a couple of body guards following him, but no personal servant. Since Trowa had left, Prince Quatre had not bothered to take a new personal servant, despite his father pushing him for it. It was a proper thing for a crown prince to have, after all.

Heero wasn't at all surprised by the prince's lack of action in that area. Trowa had been special to him in a way very few people knew. He was not something Prince Quatre could just replace with a new one.

It was not a subject Heero would ask after, though. No doubt Quatre had enough people badgering him about it and if he wanted to discuss it with Heero he would do so of his own accord. Now that business was out of the way and pleasantries had been exchanged with Master Wu Fei, Quatre suggested Heero and he take a private walk. The prince was quiet though, which was unusual for him, so Heero decided to inform after Katherine, at which Quatre's eyes lit up.

"She's doing great," he answered. "She has a strong personality, just like her mother and wants to be kept entertained nearly all day long. She's stubbornly trying to sit up on her own, but she's not very successful yet."

He sounded like a father should sound, Heero guessed. Prince Quatre was quite proud of his daughter and unlike most fathers he knew, the prince enjoyed spending time with her. He'd heard that Quatre brushed away anyone who would argue that raising children, especially daughters was the mother's task and that every evening he was in the palace he spent at least an hour with his daughter. Another thing that was uncommon and, in the eyes of some people, unbecoming of a crown prince. The king hadn't had much of a hand in his daughters' youth aside from making the decisions a father should make. He'd only ever spent a good amount of time with his son and heir and that not until the boy was old enough to learn politics. But Quatre was not his father. And the Winner family was known for sticking to their own ways no matter what other people might think.

Heero mumbled an agreeable sound and the prince sighed. "But I'm afraid I'm selling Relena short."

The young lord looked at his closest friend. "How so?"

Quatre shook his head and answered quietly. "It's been nearly three months since he left and I still can't get myself to give her the attention she deserves." There was no need to ask who 'he' was. "I try to spend time with her, I really do, but it seems so hard to just drag myself over to her quarters. And when we do spend time together I find my thoughts wandering off all the time. She's been patient with me and understanding. She is a good wife, I couldn't have hoped for a better one. But there's a limit to what any wife would understand." He sighed. "She deserves so much better."

What was he supposed to say to that? Heero didn't have a wife and he was quite content without one. But before he could speak the crown prince continued. "I should have never let him go."

Heero frowned. "You couldn't have stopped him," he pointed out. "He's a free man."

"Then perhaps I shouldn't have set him free!" Quatre almost sounded angry when he said that, which surprised Heero. Perhaps this ran even deeper than he had expected. "I was happy when he was still mine and I saw he was happy as well. Setting him free changed everything. I tried to give him the space he needed to explore his new freedom, but for every inch I offered he pulled away from me two more. And to think I had believed he actually returned my love. He just showed me what I wanted to see and I was a fool for not realising I was being played. He never cared at all! None of it was real."

"I don't believe that." Heero had seen the two of them together and though he had little experience in the area, he didn't quite believe that Trowa hadn't cared for his owner. There had always been a connection between those two which he was certain surpassed the master/slave relationship. He didn't think that would have been possible if one of the two didn't care. "He cared."

"Then why hasn't he returned yet?" Prince Quatre's voice sounded almost desperate for an answer.

"You really believed that he would?" Usually the blond crown prince was less naïve than that. He was formidable at tactics and he was incredibly skilled in reading people. Surely he had considered the possibility that his former lover would not return.

"I figured he'd be gone a little while," the prince admitted. "Figured that halfway to the north he'd realise what he'd left behind and turn around. Or even if he did make it all the way, he'd see what the north was like and realise he didn't belong there. It's only a month's journey single trip. He's had plenty of time to look around. He should have been back by now."

True it had been over three months since the former slave had left, but Heero wasn't sure he'd ever come back. As much as he wished his crown prince and closest friend the happiness he was looking for, Heero wasn't one to speak comfort over truth. "Perhaps he found something worth staying for."

"Perhaps something happened to him," Quatre continued, ignoring Heero's comment. "Perhaps he had an accident or he got lost or he was taken prisoner. If he ventured too far east..."

"Trowa doesn't strike me as one to seek out trouble," Heero interjected strongly. "Slaves learn to take care of themselves and yours was never a fool to begin with."

The blond prince considered that for a moment. "I suppose," he said quietly. "Damn it! If I'd known he'd be gone this long I would have had him followed!"

"And then what, dragged him back when he took too long?" Heero shook his head. "Be reasonable, Quatre. You had to let him go, so let him go already."

The look Quatre gave him was an unmistakable glare, but Heero didn't waver as he calmly looked back. He might well be the only person besides the king himself who could take that tone with the crown prince, but it needed to be said. One day this young man would rule the country. Someone that powerful couldn't afford to be distracted because of one person, lover or no. Something like that could get him killed before he could even ascend to the throne. He simply didn't have the luxury to moon over one boy.

The prince's glare turned to a scowl and he looked away. "You know, I hate you for being so cold sometimes," he said agitated.

"But I'm right," Heero answered.

"That's the part I like the least," Quatre admitted. "Just wait until you meet that someone. I'd like to see how you'll be when they manage to break through that tough exterior of yours."

"You'll be waiting a long time." He had no intention of getting as infatuated with anyone as his friend had been with that slave. A relationship like that was inconvenient at best.

As they arrived at Heero's private chambers, the blond prince was about to say something when he hesitated. He turned around with a shudder, staring at a pair of servants who'd just passed them in the opposite direction and watched them turn a corner. "Was that Duo," He asked, surprise in his voice.

Heero looked back just in time to see a brown braid disappearing. He hadn't paid attention to whom they came across, but he only had one servant with such long hair in a braid. "I suppose so," he answered with disinterest and entered his chambers.

"What happened to him?"

Heero looked at his friend with mild surprise. The prince almost sounded accusingly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean just what I said." In a second the prince's whole posture changed and in that instant it was obvious why people respected the heir to the Winner household. Quatre looked at him in a way he rarely confronted Heero, the one that said he disapproved greatly of what was going on and he had no intention of letting it continue. "Something must have happened to make him feel so wrong. What did you do to him, Heero Yuy?"

The prince's change in attitude put the young lord on the defensive. "Nothing that wasn't well within my right."

"I'm not talking about your rights!" Quatre actually gritted his teeth in anger.

"You heard he ran away," Heero stated coldly before the other man could say more. "He deserves everything he gets."

Quatre still looked angry, which to Heero was an overreaction. "Because you were too incompetent to keep him here?"

"Because he knows what the rules are!" The young lord was getting angry himself. He wasn't used to being questioned like this and he didn't like it one bit. "And he damn well knew the consequences."

"And he came back despite that." He knew about that as well? "Yet in return you're slowly killing him!"

That was an overstatement if ever. The slave wasn't injured. He was walking about doing chores. "He's in perfectly fine shape."

"I don't mean physically," Quatre pointed out. Heero was about to reply, but the prince continued before he could say anything. "Duo's always come through strong. I barely have to look at him to know what's going on. And he's just as strong now, except it's not his usual set of feelings, instead he's screaming emptiness."

"Emptiness?" What the hell was that supposed to mean.

"You told me you didn't plan on breaking him, but that's exactly what you're doing," Quatre said, regaining a calmer, though still very much disapproving posture. "That spirit you so valued? It's as good as gone."

"It can't be helped," Heero replied. "I was naïve to think he could be trained while keeping his spirit in tact. He just can't be trusted."

"And when was the last time you gave him a chance to earn your trust?"

Heero blinked at that. "What do you mean?"

"You're keeping him on a leash. You punish him for every toe he puts out of line. Don't argue with me," the prince said quickly when Heero moved to protest. "It's the only explanation for such drastic change. You draw the line so tightly he barely has space to breathe."

Slaves didn't need space to breathe, they needed to obey. "He had my trust, but he betrayed it when he ran away." Heero replied angrily.

"And then he came back. By his own choice," the prince pointed out again. "Heero, slave or not, Duo is just human and humans make mistakes. Can't you see he tried to correct it by returning?" Heero tried to speak, but again Quatre wouldn't let him. "You remember what he was like the first time he got here. The mad look in his eyes when I first met him and he believed you were offering him to me, the defiance that radiated from him despite your obvious control, or perhaps because of it, I saw that dissipate over time. I met him as the dangerous Shinigami and I watched him become a much more pleasant young man you called Duo. But what passed us just now was barely more than a body, an empty shell. Nothing to offer, nothing to live for."

He had noticed that as well. The look in those eyes, the light he'd once so valued had vanished and all that remained was a dull and barren look. All the challenge he'd once sought was long gone. He couldn't deny he had failed miserably in his mission. The Shinigami had turned out to be nothing but a disappointment. "I intend to sell him."

That certainly changed his friend's look but Heero didn't think it was for the better. "You're giving up?"

And here Heero thought the prince would be happy. He'd disapproved of Heero buying the Shinigami in the first place. "He's broken," Heero answered and as an afterthought he added "He's worthless as he is."

Quatre shook his head. "I said you're breaking him, not that he's broken yet. If he were he wouldn't still come through so strong." Quatre took a step closer to his friend. "When you just got him I didn't believe you could make it work, but I saw you do it. You broke through that brick wall he'd put up layer by layer and somehow managed to reach the real young man behind that wall. It may not yet be too late to bring back that spirit, if you're willing to take the risk of letting him earn your trust again."

When it came to human insight, Prince Quatre far outranked Heero and the young lord knew that all too well. The prince's predictions about a person's behaviour almost always came true. Could he be right this time as well? Was the Shinigami really not a lost cause yet as Heero believed him to be? "Why do you care so much about his fate?"

"Elfor can do without a Shinigami," the crown prince answered, "but it also has more than enough broken slaves already. I liked the change you brought about in him. And I liked the way he changed you."

"Me?" Heero was surprised to hear that. The Shinigami had once been an interesting challenge to him, nothing more. He'd trained him as he would train any unruly slave or horse and cattle didn't change their masters. Surely the boy hadn't had any influence on his own behaviour. "I haven't changed."

But Prince Quatre just smiled. "I didn't expect you to notice," he said in a friendly voice. "That's all right. If you still want to win this challenge of yours, heed my advice and start giving him some leeway before it is truly too late."

* * *

Today had been a trying day. It was one of those days where there just hadn't seemed to come an end to all the problems to solve. The dry weather in the south of Elfor had caused several fires that were barely being contained. The west was having trouble controlling the population of game for the hunt, causing sounders of wild boars to raid the farmlands. And to top it all, the nobles from the east requested still more men to protect their farms and villages from plunderers. And those were just some of the issues.

It was nearing midnight and Heero was tired. The larger part of the stack of papers was finished. The rest would just have to wait until morning. He doubted the kingdom would crumble if those minor problems were handled a day late.

The slave was already there. Duo had been brought up by Helen and chained to the wall, but he'd been left with quite some space to move around as always. The young man was seated by the wall, watching his feet as Heero moved around. He knew that looking straight at Heero like he used to do was no longer tolerated, nor was getting in his way. He could even be punished for causing sound by moving the chains, so he had taken to just sitting by the wall, waiting for Heero to retract the chains and limit his movements for the night.

Heero looked at him for a moment, trying to figure out what Quatre saw, but all he could see when he stared at the boy was a slave who had given up fighting. There was no spirit left to speak of, no passion. He doubted if there was even a will to live.

Slaves are humans, the prince had said. Humans make mistakes, he'd said. Had Heero made a mistake as well, being so hard on Duo? He wasn't sure anymore. Heero had given the boy by far the best home he'd had. He knew that was true because he knew who the previous owners had been and the Shinigami had killed them for it. There was never enough proof, but having met the slave crazy as he had been, Heero was certain of it. Had he been like this before he killed them? Would Heero have to watch out for the boy to strike at him next? Somehow, looking at the broken toy he found it hard to believe. And besides, Quatre had said that boy seated on the floor felt nothing like the Shinigami had when he'd just joined Heero's household. He'd also said the boy wasn't broken just yet.

The slave watched Heero's movements by keeping track of his feet as Heero moved to the bed and started to undress. Just as he wanted to put his sleeping pants on however, the chains gently rattled. Heero looked up to see the slave get up to his knees. He reached for the crystal as the boy started moving towards him.

"Please." One word spoken barely above a whisper. The boy hesitated and raised his head as high as Heero's knees, but did not advance further. What was it that the boy wanted? Attention? He used to like Heero playing with his hair. Was he hoping to get that again?

'Give him a chance.' Quatre's words came back to him. Heero took the crystal and he noticed the slave bracing himself for what was to come. Heero didn't give it. Instead he sat back and relaxed somewhat, watching the former Shinigami watching his knees.

Once he realised nothing happened -no pain, no further restraints- the boy seemed encouraged enough to move closer again, albeit slowly, cautiously. Heero watched him as he shuffled forward on his knees towards his master. He was now close enough to touch him, also close enough for Heero to kick out if the slave tried anything he did not like. Duo's hand carefully moved up to Heero's knee. Heero tensed and fingered the crystal.

The slave's eyes flashed to the crystal. "Please." There was the word again, barely audible, but definitely pleading.

"Hn." Heero grunted and the slave took that as permission to continue. Tentatively he started moving his hand up Heero's leg, then down again. Heero frowned. Was he trying to massage him? It seemed that way. When his master didn't stop him, the boy started indeed putting more pressure on the leg, making massaging motions.

Heero leaned back and watched as the slave worked on his leg. That felt quite nice. So nice that he did not protest when the boy moved his other hand to help out the first. But this wasn't a regular massage. The boy's hands were making their way upward. Heero watched them vigilantly as they moved towards his private parts. And sure enough, that was where they were headed.

**[SEXUAL CONTENT WARNING]**

Before long the hands started playing around Heero's genitals, almost teasing. Then the boy stroked Heero's dick, carefully, tense for negative reaction, which did not come. Instead, Heero was wondering how far the boy was planning on taking his little game. Quatre should be pleased. This was one hell of a chance he was giving the boy.

Encouraged -or perhaps just not discouraged- the braided slave stroked his master's member again and then again and it gladly responded. The boy knew what he was doing. He'd been trained in giving sexual pleasure, Heero knew. Soon the boy had one hand playing with Heero's cock and the other with his balls and the young lord bit back a moan. This felt good. His member thought so too, for it was hardening rapidly.

Duo shifted closer. Heero watched as the boy moved his head forward and saw the tongue dart out. First it licked his balls, then it moved on to his dick and when Heero did not protest that either, the mouth moved over the now hard member. The young lord closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the feeling.

It had been a while since he'd last had sex with someone. He'd done himself of course, but that just didn't compare to another person's touches. And this person was actually pretty good at what he was doing. In no time, the young lord's member was full hard and he couldn't contain his moans any longer. He grabbed the boy's head, holding it in place as he trust himself inside that mouth, groaning as he came hard.

Heero resided in that hot mouth for a few more moments before he let go of the boy's head. Duo drew back quietly, licking the soft cock as it slid out. "Get a towel," Heero mumbled, fumbling the crystal with his hand to release the boy from the chains.

He wasn't stupid. He made certain to watch the slave as he headed to the bathroom and came back with a towel. He took the towel and cleaned himself, but when Duo moved to step back, the young lord reached out to grab his arm. "No." He pulled a surprised slave onto the bed with him.

Duo looked at him for a moment, uncertainty plain on his face. But when Heero started moving a finger down Duo's chest, realisation hit him and he started to move away. Heero pressed his hand down on his slave's chest. Duo tried to swat it away, but the master caught the slave's arm and looked him in the eye. "I have no intention of harming you," he said, seeing the look of unease on his slave's face. "Obey."

The look did not go away, but the resistance in his arm failed. Good. Heero's hand on the boy's chest relaxed and moved down slowly. When it reached the pants it slipped under the hem. Duo began to struggle again, but one warning look from Heero had him stop and when his hand reached the boy's dick, the slave stiffened.

He'd been trained to give pleasure, but like a good pleasure slave he'd been trained to receive it as well. It didn't take long for him to respond to his master's fondling. His body lay still and he had his eyes shut tightly, but that didn't stop the cock from hardening.

Heero worked silently for a few more moments, then decided the pants were in the way. Duo held his body still and his eyes tightly shut, but didn't fight as Heero pushed down the pants. Then, without warning, he rolled himself on top of Duo, straddling him. As expected, the slave gasped and started to struggle, but Heero easily caught his arms and pinned them to the bed. He allowed the boy a few more moments of struggle before he spoke.

"Look at me."

The recent conditioning caused Duo to obey immediately, his eyes flying open and landing somewhere on Heero's chest. The struggling ceased and Heero took the opportunity to put a finger under his slave's chin, gently pushing his head up. "Look at me," he said again, as Duo continued to avoid his eyes and again Duo obeyed.

Heero gazed into those dark, near-violet eyes, wondering what was going on behind them. Was it fear that he saw, or maybe distrust? "I am not going to harm you," he spoke softly. He'd never lied to his slave. Despite recent developments he had never done something he said he wouldn't do or not done something he said he would. Perhaps that was why Duo seemed to relax ever so slightly.

The young lord started caressing the slave's body, moving his free hand up and down the boy's chest in a playful manner, using the other hand with which he pinned one of Duo's arms to support himself. Slowly his free hand made its way down towards the boy's private area. Duo let it happen, following his master with uncertain eyes.

In his night stand drawer, Heero had lubricant waiting since the day he purchased the Shinigami. He retrieved it now and lubed his fingers. When he put them to Duo's entrance, the boy gasped and pulled away. The lord hesitated for a moment, seeing that the other young man had closed his eyes tightly shut upon the touch and he growled softly. "You started this when you came to me willing," he told the slave. "Now you must finish what you started."

Duo whimpered, but did not pull away a second time and Heero started lubricating his entrance. "I won't harm you," he spoke in a soft tone. "It may hurt, but it won't cause you harm. Accept it." His voice seemed to help Duo relax, for the boy actually drew up his legs slightly, allowing Heero better access and to the young lord's surprise, the slave's cock responded as well.

Duo's member hardened as Heero played around the entrance. Encouraged, he kept lubing the boy, every now and then letting his hand roam over the cock and balls. Within minutes the cock was full hard and the boy writhing in pleasure.

"You may cum."

He didn't need to tell him twice. White cum shot out of Duo's cock as the boy let go of all control.

The young lord gave Duo only a moment before he took advantage of the slave's relaxation by pushing his legs further up and putting his own member inside him in one swift motion. Duo's gasp turned into a protesting groan, but Heero put a hand on the boy's chest. "Obey."

Grudgingly, Duo stilled, letting his master sit there for a moment, the body adjusting to the member inside him. When Heero decided the boy's had enough time, he began thrusting.

Now that he'd cum once, he would be able to fuck him much longer before finishing a second time and the noble was planning on enjoying himself. Sure enough, he alternated his thrusts every now and then, going from slow and gentle, to hard and shallow, from slow and deep to hard and deep and back to gentle, never giving the slave very long to get used to his movements.

He watched the Shinigami watch him as he fucked him. The look in the slave's eyes was hard to read, but Heero was sure it did not spell danger. The boy was submitting to him, willingly, as he had fantasised about since that day of the party. That thought just made him horny all over. He groaned as he shifted inside the boy, leaning over him, adjusting his thrusts to hard and deep as he felt himself get close to the climax. With a cry he let go for a second time that evening, shooting his cum deep inside the Shinigami's body, claiming him.

**[END OF SEXUAL CONTENT]**

Heero collapsed on top of his submissive slave, remaining inside him while he caught his breath. Finally, he slipped out of him and rolled off the boy, who then curled up quietly. Heero curled up against him, putting an arm over the slave's body. Cleaning themselves could wait. For now all he wanted to to do was enjoy his triumph, for he realised he had achieved what he had set out to do. He had made the slave come to him willingly, albeit under different circumstances than he had first envisioned. It didn't matter. He had won the challenge.

And into the slave's ear he murmured "Now you're truly mine."

Before he could doze off into a blissful sleep, he could swear he heard the boy's whisper. "Yours."

* * *

rlyblue

Ok, so now you either love me or hate me. Feel free to let me know in a review what you thought of this devellopment.

It's an open ending. There's plenty of story threads not worked out yet as I planned to do this in part two, but it's an ending nontheless. As for the way Heero manages to get Duo into his bed, it's probably completely immoral in the world we live in today, possibly could be called rape as Duo does indicate he doesn't want it, but this story isn't set in present time. Oh well, I guess you'll have to make up your own minds. Even if you didn't like this ending, I hope you still enjoyed the rest of the story! For now, I say goodbye.


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